Mohican Countdown

The votes from my previous Mohican post have been tallied, and, well, as always, I may or may not take the peanut gallery’s advice. You see, advice is what you ask for when you’ve already made up your mind. Often times, you probably know that the right answer isn’t necessarily the easiest answer or the safest answer, so you’re just waiting for someone to tell you that it’s OK to take the easy/safe route.

That makes it justified, right?

I digress.

I’m leaving for the Mohican 100 early Friday morning. Yeah, I know, driving 10 hours the day before a race kinda sucks, but, until I achieve awesome, baller status, it’s what I’ve got. Yesterday, I took the A9RDO out for my one and only between-race interval workout. Even though it wasn’t the most splendid and awe-inspiring set of intervals ever, I didn’t feel worn out, burned out, tired, or any of the other ways I’ve felt over the past 4 weeks. Barring another full-on brain and body meltdown like Syllamo, I think that Mohican should be good. Maybe very good. I want to be on the tall step next to Amanda.I hope my race goes something like this:

 

Oh yeah, In case you were wondering, I’m taking Gerry Pflug’s advice.

Another “Pearl Izumi WTF?” Moment: P.R.O. Bib Short Review

Another entry to the annals of Pearl Izumi’s bad decisions when it comes to their relationship with female cyclists: The Pearl Izumi P.R.O. Droptail Bib Short. It’s their top of the line model for women.

The “droptail” idea with bib shorts is a great idea. P.I. does a good job with their “Elite” model short, which has an actual waistband around the backside (the quality of the construction of the “elite” line is not that great, though). Hincapie also makes a droptail bib. It uses a simple plastic buckle in the back suspenders. It’s under your jersey, but low enough that it’s not hard to reach, and the top half has a “tail” strap that makes it easy to fish the top half back in order to get it buckled.

Enter the Pearl Izumi P.R.O. short. Through work, we get a screaming deal on certain brands… Pearl being one of them. I bought a pair, even though on the website, you can’t tell how the droptail actually works. Turns out, it uses a similar design as the Hincapie model… except that it uses bra hooks, and there’s no tail on the top strap. The closure also sits up higher under your jersey:

Let me get this straight… I’m supposed to reach under my jersey, up between my shoulder blades, and unhook those? Worse yet, once I’m done, I’m supposed to fish around under my jersey for the top half, then RE-hook that thing? I’m flabbergasted at the idiocy at work here, because it’s painfully obvious that no women were involved with the design or testing of these WOMEN’S shorts.

I returned them with a note to that effect. I received a refund, but they’ve not contacted me for feedback purposes, and I don’t really expect them to, because from my past experience with them, that’s how they roll.

Mohican 100

With the Mohican 100 one hot week away,  I know the question that’s hot on everyone’s mind right now is “wtf is wrong with you?” I still don’t know- the blood tests seemed pretty normal. I rode a little yesterday, and I didn’t feel bad, but I didn’t really feel kickass, either. Tomorrow’s ride will be a little longer, so I’ll see how that goes.

Mohican is a course with short, steep climbs and lots of flat/rolling terrain between. With the distinct possibility that I could (given I feel good) place well, I’m giving some serious thought to riding it geared.

The prospect of riding a 100 on a geared bike seems really weird to me. My bikes all have their own personalities. The singlespeed is like the “comfortable sweater” boyfriend- we have a great time together, he’s always super reliable, and he doesn’t care that I accidentally farted that one time in the car and it smelled really bad. The Air9 RDO, on the other hand, is like the guy that you only call on the weekends when you’re bored and feeling adventurous. Sexy, fast, but with a crazy streak that screams, “I’ll never, EVER meet your parents.” Riding a 100 miler on that one is like suddenly taking the “weekender” out for a week-long road trip. What will we talk about after the first hour? Do I actually want to find out that he’s got a weird affinity for McDonald’s Happy Meals? What’s he gonna think when he’s subjected to my morning “sit down” in the confines of a hotel room?

It’s up to the viewing audience at this point. Go to the Facebook page and vote in the poll: https://www.facebook.com/BrickhouseRacing. In the meantime, here are the Air9 RDO photos that I never posted before:

 

 

P.S. Yeah, that headset’s looking a little rusty. Ignore that and admire the swirls of carbon goodness.

WTF my mom smells like a horse

Ok, not really. My mom always smells like nice perfume. But, according to my wordpress stats, someone found my blog by Google-ing that phrase. Now that’s out of the way, on to less random ramblings.

I haven’t ridden since Saturday. Normally, I’d do some easy recovery rides, but Coach put me on a 4 day vacation that ends after today. Leading in to Mohican, I’m basically recovering. It’s not ideal. In my head (and, probably to a lesser degree ,in my legs), I’m losing fitness every day. That, coupled with the uncertainty of WHY DON’T I FEEL LIKE RACING?!? has basically turned me into an emotional basketcase.

There are theories… not many ways to figure out which is correct-
A) I’m just burnt out. I don’t feel like racing because I’m tired of racing these long-ass races. The mental malaise has carried over into physical malaise.
I don’t necessarily think that’s true… I don’t feel like I’ve met my goal of “kick lots of 100 mile ass,” so it’s still very interesting to me. Where do I go after this season? I don’t know. It may not be the NUE series. It may be XC or Marathon distance racing. It may be racing geared in the NUE. I don’t know, but right now, I am 99% sure I’m not burnt out on 100s.
B) Overtraining/lack of recovery
Plausible. Why? I don’t know. I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. My training program seems solid. If anything, since ramping back into training in February, I’ve felt like I’ve wanted more. Up until Slobberknocker, I’ve felt like a sponge for training intensity- absorbing everything the bike throws at me and still feeling thirsty for more.
C)Physiological problem
Maybe I’m anemic. I started eating more high-iron foods, but maybe there’s a problem with absorption. I do experience some pretty interesting beeturia when I consume beets. This is the one thing that’s easier to figure out- I went to the Shot Nurse clinic yesterday and had blood drawn for a complete blood count. I should have preliminary results back later this morning, though, even if everything looks normal now, I wouldn’t totally drop all suspicions… blood is not a static thing. While it always consists of the same basic elements, fluctuations in hormones, electrolytes, hydration, etc. can occur and throw off the numbers.

Whatever it is, it’s frustrating. I identify as a bike racer. You take away my ability and desire to do so, and you take away a part of my being. Everything has gone so well up to this point… looking so promising… I just want this bad patch to be over so I can get back to honeybadger status…

 

Syllamo 125k

Syllamo is a wild, brutal trail. It’s hard on your equipment, your body, and your mind.

Since Wednesday this week, I’ve been out at the cabin riding a little and relaxing a lot. I spent a lot of time hanging with Amanda Carey and hoping that some of her pro fast-ness would rub off on me. She makes a mean bowl of food…

 

Aside from short pre-rides (during which, we discovered the trail was viciously overgrown in some areas), we spent most of our time watching hummingbirds

 

Petting Turbo

 

Or, just generally kicking back and enjoying the sunset

 

The last few weeks have been tough… for reasons still under speculation, I didn’t experience my usual speedy recovery following the Cohutta 100. I was feeling somewhat better last weekend, and I figured that I’d be 100% back on point with a few days at the cabin participating in the aforementioned activities.

However, yesterday morning, I felt as if I had a subconscious aversion to the race. First,  I forgot stuff at the cabin… extra water bottle, extra sports bra, and, oh yeah… MY SHOES. Luckily, Ryan (racing the 50 miler, which started an hour later), was able to bring them to me. It was as if a ghost didn’t want me to get on my bike, and could only barely grasp at me like that transparent ghost hand in the movies.

The race start was as it always is- a drag race up the 3/4 mile Blanchard Road  climb to the entrance of one of the more technical sections of singletrack. By not being on a granny gear up the climb, I was able to be with some slightly more technically-abled riders once we hit the yellow trail

The riders I was around were generally alright… however, I felt a strange malaise about my placing in the pack. A few miles in, Brenda passed me on a rare doubletrack climb. I felt indifferent. I sort of picked up my pace to follow, only to realize that I just didn’t feel like a battle. At that point, I figured I’d just go for a long ride and, based on my general good fitness and riding ability, it’d all turn out pretty good.

That worked alright until about 3 hours in when I reached the long climb from up the blue trail from the highway to Green Mountain road. Even though I was doing everything “right” as far as pacing and nutrition, I started to feel overly-fatigued as I hiked & ground my way up the hill. I ended up walking a good part of the climb that I’d normally ride. Not really sure what was wrong with me, or why I was feeling much more exhausted than what I’d normally expect at that point in a race, the urge to drop out started to creep into the back of my mind.

The hardest racing condition in the world is not a physical condition-  If your mind doesn’t want you to race, you’re dealing with something much worse than any bad weather, injury, or difficult terrain.

I crept my way up to the 3rd aid station to grab some fresh bottles and get onto the red trail. Up there, I was greeted by Steven from Texas (a.k.a. Dude Brah) who had broken his chainring early in the race and forced to drop out. He asked me how I was doing, and I just told him it wasn’t a good day. He gave me several cups of ice cold coconut water and a quick philosophical talk about how I could appreciate a bad day because it brings about self awareness. He was probably a little stoned, but it gave me something to think about for the first few minutes of red trail. It was getting hot- probably around 90 degrees.

Then, my brain started to go. I was spacing out and losing awareness of time and space- other than “red trail,” I didn’t really know where I was or how long I’d been riding. I recognized the feeling, and, coupled with how I’d felt up the blue trail, it all made sense- I was bonking my ass off. How? No idea… I was eating and drinking how I have successfully in the past. I wasn’t necessarily riding any harder than usual. My legs began to complain and feel pre-cramp-ish.

Somewhere along the trail, I made a deal with myself: if I started to get full-blown leg cramps before I started the 2nd lap, I’d drop out.

That didn’t happen. I passed the “drop out” point and started back onto the Yellow trail. I was the tiniest bit happy to see that my “50 mile” lap time was right at 5 hours and 30 minutes… not that bad, actually. I was bonkish and overheated, but I decided at that point that the only way I was leaving the trail before crossing the finish line was by paramedics and a stretcher.

There’s something really creepy about the second lap on the yellow trail during the 125k. You see lots of evidence of lots of riders, but hardly ever an actual, live person. The couple of guys I did see were in pretty rough shape (how someone could be worse off than I was and still out there, I have no idea, but they were). Every time I’d get a little anaerobic, I’d feel like puking, so I walked up a lot of the steep/rocky stuff. I tried to go back into the bonk cave in my head so that I would be less aware of how slow I was moving, but instead just hung in a limbo of altered overheated consciousness.

It took forever, but I finally made it to the last rock garden and climb out to the “easy” part of the yellow that looped back to the final lap of the red trail. I knew I was going to make it. At the aid station, I put fresh water in my bottles. The Roctane I’d been drinking wasn’t sitting well, and I was afraid that it could be turning sour in the afternoon heat and sun. A half mile into the trail, I found a pocket-sized bottle of Elete drops. I stopped and put it into my water. Later on in the trail, I shared it with some 50 mile guys who were sitting at a road crossing, trying to get the energy to continue on.

There’s a point about a mile from the end of the red trail where you pass through two pine trees. It’s a narrow spot- the only one like it on the trail. From there, you climb a tiny bit and you’re done. I wanted to stop and hug the trees when I saw them.

So, I finished. 8:50something on the clock- more than 30 minutes slower than last year. I still finished 5th.

 

I’m mentally and physically wrecked right now. Coach and I are trying to figure things out, starting with 4 days off. It’s not really clear if I’m suffering from a simple lack of recovery, a lack of recovery due to something physiologically wrong, or a simple need to HTFU and ride harder. It’s never immediately clear. I hate being here at this point in the season, but it’s where I am, and, when I eventually rise up and overcome, I’ll chock it up to a learning experience, and it won’t happen again.

 

 

Tiger Lane #4

I almost forgot… Last Wednesday, I raced the final installment of the Tiger Lane Criterium races. Once again, I lined up as the solo woman with the Cat4 men. As previously mentioned, my recovery from Slobberknocker/Cohutta was questionable, so I wasn’t sure how I’d feel for the crit.

From the gun, the pace was very slightly more subdued than the previous race. My strategy was to stick near the first few wheels and only attack if it seemed like a good idea. I did just that until about 15 minutes in. A small group of riders had drifted off the front, and I’d decided it wasn’t my place to chase them down. As the teams chased them back, the planets of the counter-attack galaxy aligned: we sped up behind the caught riders just as we reached the long-side stretch of headwind. Almost instinctively and involuntarily, I slingshotted out of the draft and attacked full force into the wind. I had a gap and one other rider with me- Jon, a young Memphis Velo guy.

It was early in the race, and neither of us had a teammate in the field. I knew that we were doomed to be caught, but I was at least going to put on a show before it happened. I like racing aggressively. While it’s not always successful against a bunch of guys, I figured it’s good practice seeing as it’s been a good strategy for me during women’s races in the past.

We were out for a couple of laps before the announcer called a prime. The field was bearing down on us, and I told Jon to sit up and get ready to be caught. He took that a little too literally and nearly stopped while I tried to back off just enough that it’d be easy to absorb smoothly into the group. As a result, as they caught him, I was rounding the final turn before the start/finish, staring down the barrel of an obtainable prime. I sprinted for it. Keegen Knapp, a rider from Arkansas, jumped out of the group after me and took the prime by half a bike length (he later claimed that he thought I was on the attack again since the group had sat up). It’s ok… I didn’t really need a pair of men’s designer shorts from Oak Hall.

I re-absorbed successfully and maintained my safe spot in the front of the group. Eventually, the last few laps were called. Some BPC guys attacked and got away. Once again, I decided it wasn’t mine to chase. Unfortunately, I was surrounded by other BPC guys, and the guys who should chase were slow to react. I sat in and watched the scramble until, on the last lap, when we turned into the wide headwind section where I’d previously attacked. The guys were trying to imitate a pinball machine, and I decided I wasn’t in the mood to mix myself into the melee of cat 4 men. I pulled safely out of the group. Once the main field was clear, I solo-ed in ahead of the guys who had been previously dropped.

Training crit success.

The following day, I attempted a long ride. My legs argued with me, and I had to turn home early. I started getting worried that I was in an insurmountable hole of fatigue. I’ve eaten well and recovered well since then, but Coach and I are suspicious that I might have problems getting enough iron into my blood. Whether it’s diet-related or physiology related is yet to be decided, but, for now, I seem to be feeling well by eating iron-rich foods. Whatever it is, I’ve felt a lot better the past couple of days, and I had a great interval session yesterday. If things keep going like this, I’ll be ready to break cranks at Syllamo on Saturday.

More around the shop…

Yesterday, most people who came through the store were Mother’s Day shopping. As a result, the most common question was not, “what bike should I get?” but more “do you think my wife will like this shirt?” No, I think your wife would like it if you expressed your love and gratitude for her on a random day of the year OTHER than one created by greeting card companies.

I did have a customer come in for a new wheel. She’d tacoed her old one, so I set her up with something a little more stout. Inside her tire, I discovered what had to have been the world’s largest Stan’s Ball.

 

Later, I worked on Ryan’s Speed Concept time trial bike. It was engineered by someone who hates mechanics. Maybe “hate” is not a strong enough word… more like “vendetta”… as if a mechanic had killed his/her family and dog, so he/she went to engineering school, learned about bikes, and created this particular frame as a method of revenge.
I switched his brake levers out from a set of SRAM levers to a special set of Bontrager ones. They essentially were forced to create a barrel-adjuster style brake lever in order to overcome the shortcomings of the brakes themselves. The only way to adjust the pad width without the special levers is to remove a fairing and swap out the spacer washers from behind the brake shoes. After I removed the base bar to route the front cable and spent an hour or so arguing with the rear brake, the final step of the process is to replace the cable cover on the top of the base bar. The only problem is, the cables themselves are in the way of attaching the cover, so I had to devise a way to hold them down while I installed the cover bolts:

 

Speaking of shop… there’s a new shop kit. It’s… colorful.

At least I’ve got something a little more subdued for when I don’t want to look like a quilt:

 

Terriers

Terriers are awesome. At 12 years of age, Indy still pursues the elusive mole… sometimes in the confines of the empty compost bin

Women’s Bikes

Watch this:

No, really. Watch it. Especially about halfway through when they start talking about the need for a “women’s specific” geometry on bikes.

Since I’ve started looking into various bike fits and helping people find proper bike fits, I’ve had an inkling that the women’s specific bike is a marketing gimmick… especially in the case of Scott, who just makes the women’s bike a different color with no other appreciable changes to the frame.

Other manufacturers make their women’s frames somewhat differently- usually shortening the reach and increasing the stack. This is similar to the type of geometry that they’ll use for their more “comfort” oriented frames (examples- Scott CR1, Cannondale Synapse). Last I checked, about 90% of my road bike customers were men… and last I checked, the more “comfort” oriented geometry was what was appropriate for 90% of the men who walk through the shop door.

So, what about a guy who wants a full-on race bike, but can barely touch his hands to his knees. Do we do this?

I’d love to suggest, “hey, Cannondale’s ladies geometry will give you a shorter reach and taller headtube,” or “you know, you’d be more comfortable on a Synapse,” but, if I did that, it would be a direct attack on his manhood and his desire to ride a full-on race bike, and he’d go to another shop.

My point? Like the ladies in the video told you… find a frame that fits you.Make final fit adjustments with bar, stem, and seat. Whether you’re male or female, be realistic. Be open-minded enough to realize that the traditional race geometry may not be what you’re most comfortable riding. Be open-minded enough to realize that if you’re female, the women’s bike may NOT be what’s most comfortable for you.

My next road frame will likely be a Cannondale Women’s Supersix…

But wait… I thought you said that women’s frames were bunk?

Well, The geometry almost exactly matches my NON-WOMEN’S BH Connect… which I’m very cozy on.