The much-awaited 35th birthday finally took place this year, making me eligible to race USA Cycling master's nationals on the road for the first time ever. I raced Master's 35+ women in the CX nationals last year (well, technically THIS year- in January, but last season) when I was still only 34 but that's how the rules read...
I signed up several months back -hoping the nationals in early September would keep me motivated during the months I tend to drop off in desire for the bike - namely, July and August. Coming off two massive events in June which totaled over 850 miles in 2 weeks, I knew I had endurance - however I haven't done any intensity this summer... because - why would I, when I haven't been racing?
So I began to put some effort into it in late July and early August. I started to feel some form coming around. Then I had to travel in Mid-August and I ended up spending 3 days in airports and hotels due to flight snafus (thanks, Delta)... and of course, I got sick from it. What should have been 3 hard weeks of training followed by a taper week leading up to my race, became a week off due to illness, a meager week of training while trying to breathe through all the congestion, and a so-so week chasing the moto putting out some decent efforts - which were strong but not long enough... it's been the headcold that won't quit -in fact I've still got its remnants...
I was committed to the proposition so I did what I could with what I had.... despite feeling good about my last minute cramfest of training efforts, I still had a nagging sense I'd be better off staying at home. Driving 1000 miles round trip to race one TT that's not even a full 40k, that's quite a lot of work. I really vacillated between going and staying home... but the machine was dialed and I felt like "I may as well go..." (never a good frame of mind to be in)
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| The Cannondale Slice TT bike -reliable, trusty steed that she is, with the new PowerTap HED disc wheel |
Finally the night before departure time, I decided to load the van up and just act as though I was leaving to see if the mood struck me. Labor day, I departed the driveway with van locked and loaded to the gills, actually looking forward to the trip and a few days "away."
I made it almost to Fort Collins before the van began acting up -engine pressure dropping on the rolling hills of I-25, which was massively traffic-heavy thanks to the holiday. There I was in the big white bomb, losing speed and trying to find a place to pull over. I called husband Rob-who suspected either a transmission failure, bad gas in the tank, or low oil ... either way, after stopping and trying to find places to check it out (ON labor day- everything's closed) I ultimately limped back home via back roads.
3 hours in the car and I'm back home. And mad. At this point, intuition said, "stay home." Nope.
I unpacked the van and jammed it all into my car and took off again. This time battling laterintheday Labor Day Traffic... 8 frustrating hours later, I arrived in Ogden, UT. I kept telling myself, "shake off the rough start, you're here, it's game time."
Tuesday morning I woke up early and went to pre-ride the TT course on Antelope Island.
= Quite possibly the coolest TT venue I'll ever have occasion to ride or race -it's an island/mountains/desert/buffalo hangout connected by a road to Ogden.
Honestly, Tuesday's course pre-ride nice and early when it felt like I had the island to myself -was the highlight of the trip. I should've stopped there and come home. (I will add that having these giant bison out there roaming around and one crossing the road right in front of me -taking his sweet time I might add- concerned me a bit... what if that happened during my race??). I was a bit troubled with how flat my legs felt during the spin and how tight my back was, but that's not unusual after driving 8 hours solo in a car, so I figured they'd shake out.
Immediately following my course pre-ride my phone and email began blowing up. My fellow business owners in our office building were notifying me that, unbeknownst to us, the business across the street during its construction mess, decided to close our street. Our only access to our building. Coming off a holiday weekend! Commence: 5 hours of calls and emails with the City, the business who closed our road, and my fellow business owners... this is what happens when I leave town!!
After those fires were temporarily put out, I spent much of Tuesday afternoon at Union Station picking my packet up and waiting in line for the courtesy TT bike measurement with USA Cycling and the Jig-a-ma-thing. It's a contraption to make sure your TT Bars aren't too long and your saddle nose isn't forward of your bottom bracket. Apparently though, the USA Official didn't read their own race bible and rules, because the official was busting people in the front of the line for all kinds of things- like level saddles and aero water bottles (say wha?!?) ... such that half of the field went home and moved their bike setup around like crazy, often moving saddles INCHES and removing bottles, etc... and it made the long line move incredibly slow. So there we stood outside in the hot sun for several hours waiting for bike check...
Only to find an email from USA cycling that evening saying, "sorry, just kidding, those changes we made you all make to your bikes...it was a mistake, our bad....sorry for the inconvenience." Except as it turned out -many racers never got the email... so all of these time trial enthusiasts who've trained on their TT bikes in that certain position and who paid big $$ for bike fits.... ended up racing in new and wonky TT positions.... That's a recipe for DISASTER for a 50+ minute time trial.
Luckily for me, I was quite a ways back in the TT bike line, so they changed officials by the time I got up there and my bike passed the check w/out any adjustments needed. So there was that, at least. Oh and I got a cool train photo that shows just how little my bike is and just how big trains are (duh).
I sat around Tuesday night LAUGHING OUT LOUD watching The Heat on HBO (one upside to hotel stays!). I'm sorry, but that is good quality entertainment right there.
Wednesday morning I took my time packing up and heading out, since I didn't race till after noon and I knew there'd be no escape from the hot sun once on the island. I was right. I did get this cool photo of the mountain we'd be racing around on though:
I connected with teammates Barb and Sue... set up my trainer and found myself parked next to a couple from Kansas - who, no surprise, knew my dad. Small world, and fun. Always nice to connect with people at races.
My warmup went as I'd hoped though perhaps I went a bit too long and didn't hydrate enough. My TT bike was dialed, tires inflated, shifting, boom boom boom. It all felt good. I arrived at the start early, my bike again passed the jig test, and I stood and waited my turn. Thanks to USAC's "race predictor," I was 3rd from last. That was good news -to have plenty of women to chase. I knew that we'd have a mega-tailwind on the way out to the turnaround, so I kept making mental notes to keep it in check. Two friends who'd already raced -Michael and Phil -both told me they'd been pedaling squares coming back in, so I knew I HAD to be conservative on the way to the turnaround.
I rolled down the ramp, took off up the first hill, the wind at my back, a nice high cadence, and I thought -"this is going to go much better than I expected." I kept my RPMs high, watching my power on and off (LOVED having that PowerTap HED disc with powertap/!!!!!!) and really held back, making sure my legs never burned I just let the pedals turn over. The girls who'd started ahead of me pulled way out of sight, and I panicked a bit, but knew I had to remain patient, since the real work would be in the 10 miles coming back, into that wind. I saw the guys coming back and they were STRUGGLING.... I knew I had to hold back. And I did. And I was pleased. I felt really good.
I hit the turnaround which was on a downhill, and came out of it in the perfect gear to begin climbing. Again I turned the high RPMs, but with the headwind now a serious issue, I focused more on staying low in my upper body, kept my head tucked down into my shoulders, and buckled down for the hard part. All was well.
Until it wasn't. At mile 14, the wheels fell off. They fell the F off. (Sorry, that's a Ron White reference)...a classic, I might add. I can't explain it but it's like the off switch was flipped. My back locked up, my right knee started killing me with stabbing pain, my right foot -3 smallest toes - lit up on fire and I couldn't stand it. I wanted to get off my bike to rip that shoe off, it was the worst foot fire I've ever had. Oh wait -the ONLY one. Everything that could go wrong, did. I shut down. I got into the easiest gear and realized it might take me an hour to ride the final 6 miles to the finish. I had the goosebumps except I was burning up. I couldn't get my legs to turn over. I sat up out of the TT bars and veered across the road back and forth. The 2 girls who started behind me passed me. One girl I'd passed earlier then passed me. It was like Time.Stood.Still and I thought "I will never make it back to my car." I didn't care about the race anymore. I just wanted to get off the bike forever.
In years past, I could usually pull myself out of a meltdown like this midrace. I historically have been able to hit the override switch (not always good - I've really hurt myself pushing through when I should have stopped)... but today there was no override. No ounce of optimism. No thought or mantra that would help me. I was dying a slow painful death on this god forsaken desert island among bison and bugs... it was absolutely awful. I limped to the finish coasting across the line. I tried getting off my bike but couldn't straighten up, my back was locked. I stood there bent at a 90 degree angle, desperately ripping off my shoecover and right shoe to free my fire foot. I knew I was DFL. I knew I'd imploded. I knew I just wanted to get into my car and drive to my hotel.
That is not what happened. A few yards past the finish line I rode past the USADA doping controls. They were testing the winners of each category in the TT. And one random. Guess who. Yep. So I joined the winners and we sat in the sun and none of us could pee. I tried and only got 20ml. I needed 90. I guzzled bottle after bottle after bottle of water and gatorade. I lost track at 6. Thankfully no one else could pee either, so we all sat together commiserating about how dehydrated we must be...
THREE.HOURS.LATER I finally felt the urge and was able to fill my pee cup. Nothing like trying to pee with a woman standing there watching you pull down your skinsuit in the port-a-potty. But doggone I felt like a winner with my 90ml cup full - I finished up the paperwork and questions, poured my pee into 2 sample containers, sealed em up, kissed em good bye and finally was permitted to return to my car. Nothing to eat post race. No phone. Having not eaten since 9am, and finding my car was sitting alone as the rest of the racers had all left -I discovered it was 3:40pm. I had a massive headache from all the cold fluids and I felt absolutely ill from the TT implosion followed by 3 hours of sunbathing at the USADA tent.
This was a low point of bike racing for me. To come to a race knowing in my heart I was not fit enough, to race well until 6 miles to go and then to totally fall apart, and then to get selected as the random when I've done so poorly in my race...and to sit there trying to make urine for 3 hours...
blech.
I finally got into my car, got my phone and called my husband. He's been coaching me loosely in preparation for this race and I explained how my body had totally shut down on me 14 miles in. He asked, "was it dry out there?" I said "how could it be, we're surrounded by water that smells salty, it's got to be more humid than Colorado." I don't usually have issues with heat, cramping or hydration, so I immediately dismissed his suggestion that severe dehydration had caused my meltdown. But then he pointed out how long it took me to hydrate and pee. "Good point," I said.
Sure enough - the humidity in Ogden UT the day of our race was DESERT-LEVEL! Average humidity: 29%. Minimum: 16%!!! Much lower than in Colorado. And I didn't have a water bottle on my bike (because historically I haven't needed one during my longer TTs!). And I didn't drink nearly enough during my warmup. Whoops.
Ok... so that perhaps explained the body shutting down -the hot foot, back lockup etc... who knows if that was it or not. Dehydration kills bike races.
The important and much cooler part of this story, is that BOTH of my TCL teammates there, Barb and Sue, made their respective podiums - Barb 5th in the TT at her first-ever nationals, and Sue 5th in her road race (raced today). I'm so proud of them both.
All in all, it was a trip where I should have respected the fact that my headcold ruined my training and my chances, and I should have honored my inner voice that kept whispering "stay home." Even the van episode was a great sign that I was supposed to stay home and not go. But I overrode the signs, I muscled it, and things did not go well.
The moral to the story: honor your inner voice. Listen to your gut. Respect that if you feel like you're forcing something, you probably are. Stop fighting the tension and relax. Find the channel you're meant to swim in, and go there. Stop swimming against the current.
Second lesson: Always hydrate. Always. Especially if USADA is there because if you're chosen and you're dehydrated, you will be at the tent for a lonnnnnnng lonnnnnng time trying to pee.
The end.
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