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Just A Closer Walk With Thee The Dirty Dozen Brass Band xo

lloyd kepple sat on a tack my father and I xo

My father passed away last night. Dad has been in poor health for some time, and we are all grateful that he was able to live, and leave, at home, as he wished. Right now, I’m listening to New Orleans Jazz funeral music. He told me many times that he would like us to celebrate his life rather than mourn his death. He did it his way, and I love him for that.

The race last Saturday was a hot one. Andrea Matter and I bonded on the start line about our insomnia. Her insomnia could tear the legs off of my insomnia. I read somewhere that sleep deprivation can really decrease the level at which you can work before reaching lactate threshold. Or something. On two hours of sleep stolen Saturday morning, my legs felt sluggish during my warm up. But that’s happened before and I felt great later, so I tried to just relax and hit the hill hard. 6th wheel up the start climb with Andrew’s encouragement and I felt strong.

By the top of the ski hill, I felt like I was catching my breath but then my chest started to really hurt. Issues with inconsistent breathing are usual for me, but I’ve never had pressure or tightness in my lungs. I was passed by two strong ladies I rarely have the pleasure of seeing up there, and the first said “nice easy breathing” as she went by. I gasped out “You too!” and hit the descent with “it’s a long race,” on repeat in my head, trying to chill.

A third wheel joined me half way down the descent - another lady who I’ve not before met on the race course. She was so overjoyed to see me! Even though she kept silent, I could tell how she felt because she rubbed my rear tire so insistently whenever possible. Between my breathing and coughing, our tire rubbing and her un-clipping and re-clipping for all the sand, roots and rocks behind me, we were like the world’s worst beat box heading down the mountain. Good times.

By the base I was willing to throw down or go down, so stood up and hammered when it opened up. The legs felt great, considering, but within a minute or two I was unable to stop coughing and my chest was becoming increasingly tight. It hurt. Plus, my tire-rubbing friend had pulled a tight pass after the open section and then come to an indecisive halt at the bottom of the wood plank bridge, deciding whether she would go around or ride it, forcing me to track stand behind her before heading up it. I’m not usually so irritable and, between coughs, decided my lack of internal focus was a bad sign. I pulled myself, and went to look for Matt’s inhaler. Nick and Spencer were both total gentlemen to intercept me and offer help while I wandered around sort of dazed and freaked out. The rest, shade and especially the inhaler did the trick. Crap. First ever asthma attack.

Every cloud has a silver lining, however.

Because of my DNF in the XC race, and because I still was kinda freaked out about whether I’d be able to breath, I sat out Sunday’s events.  It was fantastic to be able to cheer for Matt and TeamWORS and all the rest of the people who came out and raced.  Smashley won the Stage Race for the Sport Women, Matt did really well, and it was a pleasure to watch the Elite women from the sidelines.  They looked fast.  Meghan is going to tear legs off, and I was totally inspired by Holly’s effort in the Short Track.

The farther I got from feeling scared about the asthma thing, the closer I got to feeling fired up about it.  It doesn’t make any sense to be motivated to work harder because of an asthma attack.  But I am.  So, whatever.  I went to the nice, cool, air conditioned gym on Monday and punished a treadmill until I was satisfied that my lungs aren’t total back-stabbing bitches. I mean, they are, but they weren’t on Monday.  I also had a really nice ride in search of cool breezes. I hope they cool down my hot head.

Matt and I had the pleasure of attending Eric and Amanda’s wedding on Saturday night, and I have to admit that the perma-grin on Eric’s face almost cracked me.  I choked up a little.  Note the foreshadowing.

It poured on Saturday night and so we were happy with our decision to hit up the Stevens Point Motel followed by strawberry waffles at Perkins. For beds and breakfasts alone, this season is shaping up to be the best so far. That and the T6 team encouragement! ^_^

I vaguely remembered Wausau from the race last year, and we tried to be legit about arriving, checking in with Team WORS, and getting ready to ride. I didn’t do the best job of warming up, and when we lined up I still had an unreal sense of not actually, seriously, being about to race. Try not to choke.

*photo from AmyD

WIth no pre-ride, I decided to settle in and trust to the open roads to give me a chance to work my way up. I had a mediocre start. Got cut off, worked my way back up, felt like we were going too slow, tried to chill, caught my breath, saw Kim Eppen go off the front like a rocket, was soon out of breath and gapped, feeling the lack of a proper warm-up. By the time we hit the first section of singletrack, I was really not where I thought I ought to be, was breathing hard and, despite my best efforts to get a grip, started to get flustered. The Juniors and Open guys caught us just as we entered ho chi min and in the rush of adrenaline from their own sprint off the road and their good passing etiquette, they were yelling out their passes to those behind me loud and clear. Meanwhile, my tires were sliding all over the mud and rocks. And I totally blew my cool. Choke. Melt down. Flipped my $h+

I like mud races. I like a slog and a contest of strength, and I like rocks and roots a lot. I’m not the most amazing technical rider, but I believe I can do OK. The thing is, if you think you can ride it - sometimes you are wrong. But if you think you can’t ride it - you are always right. I love that so much of racing is mental. Toughness. Focus. Attitude. I sometimes think that the stories I get to witness in other people’s races are really more about what they can do with their brains and their heart than what they can do with their body. And my brain sort of totally messed up my race this time.

For some crazy reason, in that first section of singletrack I lost my mind and was suddenly 100% convinced that I was the only one who was riding around on a block of ice. The bike, I decided, was completely out of my control. I had new tires on it, filled up a bit high to avoid flats, and I started thinking it was the tires. Matt had the same tires on his bike and I started worrying about his race. I actually briefly considered pulling out. This was ridiculous - I didn’t even go down. But, for the next 10 minutes, I was completely spooked and not focused. I have to thank Sarah, who was right behind me when I lost my cool. She was amazing. She stayed on my wheel and told me again and again, “Just keep riding, you can do this.” It was also super encouraging to hear my name called from so many places on the course. For some reason, I heard my name more on Sunday than I think I ever have since my first Expert race. It was really appreciated.

After about 30 minutes, I was calming back down and ran the reality check. Everyone was sliding all over the course. I was riding my bike, and I liked the track, even wet. And I was starting to feel stronger. Still, I was way behind where I wanted to be, and had already been passed by people during my first lap that I usually don’t see until very near my finish. My legs felt better, but not amazing. I decided to suck it up and make the best of it. And it was pretty great.

me and my friend #704. picture by Christine

One of the best things about my race was being able to ride with some other people. I got to ride with my T6 teammate Meghan! a bit at the start. She’s going to tear it up this year, I think. Today she landed a podium spot in her second Expert race. Liz and I went back and forth a few times and that was fun. This is her first year in expert too and she is a strong rider. I’m going to be thrilled if we get to duke it out again this year. I also got to ride with Sarah for some of the second and third lap. The woman just broke her pelvis and she was not only racing but schooling all of us through ho chi min once again. I’m hoping the GoPro camera got the footage of her clearing everything ahead of me on lap 2. And my man in Junior X, #704! I can’t keep up with him in the singletrack, yet, but we’re pretty close on the open stretches, so we had a good time going back and forth. I don’t usually get to do that, and I have to say that between learning a valuable lesson about not freaking out, and just having fun racing, it was a pretty good time. It was also one of the few WORS races I’ve done where I’m happy just because I made the best of it and finished. Those can be some of the best.

My “training” has kind of fallen off track in the last couple of months, and hit a low before Rhinelander.  My riding after Iola consisted of bonking on my recovery ride, riding to Bratfest, and riding to the Terrace.  I wasn’t sure what to expect at Crystal Lake, though I was looking forward to the singletrack and the open roads.  I love that course.

I enjoyed the pre-rides - both the citizen loop with the Learn to Race Clinic and our expert loop. Then we were treated to the amazing hospitality of Sarah Lukas and her family the night before the race. Matt and I slept great, were well fed, and generally felt wonderful when we showed up to race on Sunday. Thanks Sarah and Sue!! Being two-for-two on the season with race-day blueberry pancakes and a warm shower does not suck.

photo by jjamk

I had a good start, remembering to draft a bit better than last year. I was surprised after the first climb to look back and realize we were already reduced to six. Abby, Robin, Holly, Lisa, Andrea, and me. I was, comically, second wheel for a stretch after the big hill. We regrouped and shuffled, and I rode with Holly for a short while after the first section of singletrack. After I lost touch with Holly, it was a solitary ride. I never saw a lady behind me, and the only women I passed were Robin and Lisa, who were standing by the side of the trail (flats). That sucked, as I know they were both doing great up until the mechanical.

I lost a minute or so to chain suck and then, later, being pushed over by a passing Comp rider on a strangely wide-open stretch. It took me a moment to re-mount my bike as I was having a fit of dire leg cramps at the time, which, after he locked my handlebar and I fell onto his bike, spread to the left leg as well as the right. It happens. I remember trying to ask this guy to please just drag my bike off the trail before he fled the scene, seeing as I was sort of paralyzed and writhing in leg-related agony. No doubt I sounded like a cross between William Shatner yelling “Kaahn!!!” and a dying chipmunk, so he just took off as fast as he could. I got back on the bike determined only to catch him and verbally abuse him to within an inch of his life. If I made up time on the last open road section, I have that single instance of inept passing to thank.

photo by christine

Overall, I ended up with 4th. In my own mind this is really 6th, as I doubt I would have caught up to either Robin or Lisa. Still, I’m very happy with that result. I thought I rode well, and felt reasonably strong.  And I had a great time.  In the week after the race, I worked pretty hard to get the Race Report on WORS.org, the photo contest finished, and the new GoPro WORS Cam tested before the next race, at Wausau. Still, Matt helped me to get out and ride a bit. We road down to Paoli with Scotty Raptor, which was lovely. We also did some hill sprints. The deal is, I get a 50 ft moving head start, on a road bike. He has his mountain bike, and still passes me before we’re half way up the hill. It’s pretty good fun and someday, I swear, I’m going to beat him to those ceramic dogs halfway up the hill.