2 steps back, 1 step forward

What is the word for over analyzing things? Please no clinical definitions; I'd rather have the slang. I'm guilty of it on an emotional level. If I could only apply the same thought processes at work, I could solve the world's problems. Nah. I would just go full circle as I have done in the last 24 hours.

DINO #5, Versailles, finally came to fruition. I was indifferent when I arrived; it had been postponed so many times. I didn't have race fever. But the good trail reports kept my spirits up that I would FINALLY have a good race. The riders were sparse. Most had either dismissed the venue or raced in neighboring Kentucky. Nevertheless, my heart was beating at 96 beats per minute on the start line when any other day sitting around it would be 60 bpm. Funny how it leaps to 180 just 2 minutes after the start. And it didn't stop there.

I quickly maxed out (as always) and seemed to be in the 190s every time I looked at my monitor. Was it the heat? Because I should be going a LOT faster than I was for that high of a HR. I should note the temps were in the 90s--the second time Indiana has seen a warm week this year. We've been lucky.

I succumbed to the heat and all the evil thoughts associated with racing. It was hard pushing myself; I didn't see the value in it. Less than half-way through the race I quit. No, I didn't stop pedaling; I quit racing. What's the point? IT'S HARD. IT HURTS. I would just finish. IT'S HOT. In fact, I would quit racing altogether. Did I mention IT'S HARD? Yep--no more racing for me next year. Yeah, the doubts enter everyone's minds at some point, but I took it a step further.

Thankfully, I brought chamois creme. Which god or patron saint is responsible for this product? I shall offer a sacrifice for its benefit. If you have to ask what it is, never mind. I actually told Meredith during the race that it was a highlight.

So, after an hour and 20 minutes of bad attitude, I decided to give it a go. I raced! I was sweeping through the corners while NOT braking, flying on the downhills, shifting exactly when I wanted to, and having fun. I put in a good 17-minute effort, rested for 2-3 minutes then put in another effort to the finish. It felt good. Now, I have to maintain that for 2 hours instead of 1 hour. (I did try at the start for 30-40 minutes as well. It is the middle part where I start to lose it.)

In 24 hours, I've gone full circle of not wanting to race to fixing up my 29er again. As I type, Mr. Wonderful is cleaning and fixing up the Chris King 29er wheels for next weekend's DINO #6 in Logansport. I'll see how I feel this weekend before making decisions for next year.

Frequently, when I return home from bike rides, I find things in my yard or driveway. Below is the latest.....

Peace out. Keep it fun! I know I still love the bike; and that is rewarding enough.

When I arrived, Mr. Wonderful and his uncle had just finished unloading our new forklift from the trailer. Since it doesn't run, he was using the bobcat as a brake. Seriously?!?!?!?

Here's a close-up of the new beast. Super Sport. We are so lucky.

This pic is for Randi. Know what's happening to my hand?

My skin is becoming disfigured from the power of the Xlerator!! It was too hot to stick my feet under there. Otherwise I'd have more pics.

Ahhhhhhhhh!
Here's a pic of the sketchy waterfall that freaked us out the first time. This time was effortless. The pic makes it look like a piece of cake, but just to the right is a huge, perilous drop-off!



Sweet trails at Versailles.

(Waterfall pic & trail pic were lifted from the HMBA site)

When races are postponed

With the Versailles race being postponed the last 2 weekends due to rain, I've been filling my time with more riding. Kudos to the race director for calling off the races in the muddy conditions. While none of us are afraid of mud, the trail system is quite new from hundreds of volunteer work hours and cannot survive the numerous bicycle tires going over it when wet.

So, the girls (and Charlie) headed to Nebo Ridge and Hickory Ridge (a first for me) to get some mtb time and turned Sunday into a 70-mile tour of Morgan county. Some of these were also new roads for me. The wind forecast said 5-10 out of the northwest. In reality, it was out of the northwest for a while, until we turned east at which point the wind oscillated and blew from the east. Again, when we turned south, it was relentless blowing in our faces until we turned west. We only thought that was wind out of the south. No, when we turned west we were blasted! In the last 5 miles, I wanted to limp back to town. So, I slowed while the girls graciously met my turtle pace.

Last night's recovery ride was spectacular. I kept the chain on my little ring in the front and was spinning when I could, coasting when I was going faster. I thought of Thurston's e-mails and how much they crack me up. His weekend ride reports on Mondays are too funny and inspirational. I practiced riding no-handed to learn balance and to do my victory salute in case I ever cross the finish line first. I did one-legged drills to improve technique. Previously, I had done these on a trainer--the road bike is much different and definitely shows I need work. Also, I pedaled slowly over the bridges to check out the creek beds. Only twice did I think, "I would really like to ride my mtb up a dry creek bed someday."

So, if the forecast is clear, Versailles is the next race. In the mean time, it's all good.

"There's no reason to rush into hell"

-Phil Liggett, commenting on a slow moving Paris-Roubaix Peleton

Yet here we are in our own purgatory suffering from what Cheryl calls, PTD: Post Tour Depression. Along with some of my friends, I have an emptiness now when I am home and the television is off. I actually sent a text of concern to one friend to see how she was coping after Contador's victory in France. Only 49 more weeks until the 2010 TDF. In celebration, I listed my top 10 Phil Liggett quotes below.

Meanwhile, I have to find (another) way to keep the deer out of my garden. The tops of all the plants were chewed off this morning yet some were still yielding produce. AND, if I could keep them away--far away--from my car, I'd appreciate it too. Just sayin'.

After learning a new word today, I think my new strategy will be to adopt a megalomaniacal approach to mountain biking. Perhaps, then, I will have the gumption and confidence to overcome obstacles on the trail. (Note: this will greatly impact my trash talk that already fills the rides.)

But the highlight of the week was the annual Odon Old Settler's Parade. Tradition calls for supper at the grandparents' house then outside to watch old cars, tractors, and wanna-be floats drive at 3 mph down the road. Is it just me or has creativity in parades been lost? Instead of decorated trailers, dressed up people, and shriners, participants drive trucks with hand-written signs duct-taped to the side.

Case in point: A truck w/ balloons. No other signage. WTH??? Why are you throwing candy at us? Who do you represent? Now we are bewildered. Should we even eat your candy?

Granted, the community aspect was well-represented what with both firetrucks, the police car, the county ambulance, and other noise-makers at the front (another rant: why have sirens at full bore with kids around? Doesn't it damage their little ears?); here is the H.S. football team with my brother in the foreground. But they don't throw candy; they sit and look cool.

Quick note: My brother has served two tours of duty in Iraq and one in Bosnia. Think of our friends and loved ones who are overseas.

Speaking of school spirit, my driver's ed instructor/typing teacher shows off his miniature horses every year. Just behind him is Jason's uncle (in the red shirt) with some bigger horses.

My niece and nephew in-law are in the foreground.

But the most anticipated (by my older bro, not pictured, and me) is the guy on the John Deere who always does a finger-pointing wave at my grandfather. The entire gesture lasts half a minute! I'll never understand the unspoken farmer language. Unfortunately, my photo was corrupt after a mishap involving my dad falling out of a chair. Drat! Nevertheless, here is the solemn man mid-point to my grandfather, who responds, every year, with a head nod.

Stupid pole.

Alas, we went to see my father-in-law who suffered a broken heel bone this week. We were surprised by the new decorations: Reglor lamps circa 1951. They are quite fantastic, in a way. I'm rather intrigued by them but not sure I could put them in my own living room. Perhaps he'll end up on the Antique Road Show to learn their value. Maybe in the in-law apartment in the new building isn't such a bad idea.

That's the news...and here are the favorite Phil Liggett quotes (in no particular order):

--He's wearing the mask of pain

--Are they on the road to stardom, or are they lambs to the slaughter? - early breakaway at Paris-Roubaix 1988

--The riders are starting to get a bit twitchy now!

--Well, are you coming or not and the answer is NOT! - "The look" from Armstrong to Ullrich

--Now the boys are enjoying a nice slice of tailwind.

--Don't look back. You know what's going on back there because you just left.

--That is twenty-one miles of pure purgatory.

--He's dancing on his pedals in a most immodest way!

--He's really having to dig deeply into the suitcase of courage - actually attributed to Paul Sherwin.

--Ready, for an arduous ride into treacherous territory.

http://www.liggettfan.com

http://www.reference.com/browse/wiki/Phil_Liggett

Unexpected thrills

So many things have happened lately that just make me smile. Here are a few I remember in no particular order:

--Intervals; yes they are painfully hard but the feeling afterwards is rewarding.

--Upcoming girls' trip; we're not just talking about it; we're actually going to do it!

--Watching a mtb race; last weekend I watched a road crit and a mtb race. Who knew spectating could be so much fun? The guy who got me in to riding bikes was the victor as he reminisced about racing (and winning) the same course 20 years ago.

--Riding Big Wheel, my 29er, while the other bike is receiving some TLC.

--Red peppers in and on everything; a new healthy food I like and some pizza places offer them as a topping!

--Helping with house projects; I operated a saw and a drill and was quite productive. Additionally, people witnessed my ease of use with these tools.

--Breakfast meat; 2 days in a row I had smoked ham; it's almost as good as bacon.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Projects and Spoiled Brats

I'm starting to think of myself as a spoiled brat. For the past month, my husband has been working tirelessly to ready our house for an appraisal that will aid in getting funds for a new building, or man-cave. Being impatient, wanting to spur economic growth in our country, and seeking immediate gratification, we started the new building already thus multi-tasking our projects. In the interim, I get to ride my bicycle and play with my friends because I lack what he calls, 'skilled labor.' No complaints here.

I've admitted the new building is for his stuff, but I can't keep my mind from wandering. In a few months, I will have space to house a brand new car! (thankfully he doesn't read this blog!) But even more intriguing is the thought of a new Madone hanging in the garage. Ohh...just the thought of a new road bike today made my mind jump to the Paragon 29er frame in my basement. Yes, I got the replacement frame after my old one cracked (thank you, Gary Fisher), and I'm thinking of turning it into a race bike! I already have a race bike. But how sweet would the Big Wheel be with a 1x9 (or 2x10, I'm flexible) carbon set up with light wheels???? Again, I admit that today's ride on the 29er was a little tough with my tractor tires on. I could go on and on, but it still makes me think I'm a spoiled brat.

I guess one hesitation is my lack of 'skills' as noted above. I've had two bikes break on me in one week. Perhaps I should learn some maintenance first. During some intense intervals with the girls, I noticed some shifting trouble on the road bike. It continued for the next 3 days; when I showed Jason, the cable came out of the shifter. It had frayed and come loose. It must happen after thousands of miles (or shifts). I bet I wore it out. And my mt bike is at the Doctor's this week with a seized front fork; again my mistake for getting water down in the fork while cleaning it after a muddy race. That's OK. My legs are sore from intervals and working on projects (with my unskilled labor); I may not even want to ride again this year, er, I mean again today.

Anyway, despite the chaos, I feel great. We are fortunate. Below are some pics of the projects.

OK--It's not a project, but I would like to put one in the garage when finished

Our first garden put in just before the other projects started

MMMMMM Peppers

Starting the new roof over the shanty

Almost finished


Before excavation for the new building

Clearing trees

Footer poured

Compacting gravel

Radiant heat tubing

Summer is here

How do I know?

...Tour de France! Long live the Tour!! So much excitement and speculation.

...Indiana sweet corn is popping up in roadside markets and grocery stores. Mmmmm.

...My very first garden is actually producing vegetables and herbs.

...Home construction projects are numerous and in various stages of completion.

...Daylights reaches in to the late evening hours.

...County fairs; I was especially aware of this one when a demolition derby car, having obviously been in a derby, drove by my house last night--its thunderous engine and no exhaust echoing throughout the countryside.

And I've still promised to visit the humane shelter in the Fall.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

When my best isn't good enough

What happens then? The dark thoughts and internal philosophical discussions fill my head. The ever-present questions and doubt linger only to morph into even more ridiculous accusations of self-loathing. Yes, I'm talking about the emotional roller coaster of bicycle racing. Why do I do it? Why is hurting good? When does fun become a chore? a mind screw? Can my best be good enough even if I get last? Has anyone else had to ride an extra 25 minutes after the race for some alone time or am I just too worked up about this?

Yes, I finished last today. I have been reading about a triathlete in Chicago who recently turned pro; her results have not been stellar this year by her own standards and she has even come in last despite her tremendous efforts at working to get better. After going through her own roller coaster, she finds some positive thing about the day. For her, the internal drive kicks in turning the loss into motivation for better results. Lacking that internal motivation, I compete for different reasons. But then, is it a contradiction to want better placing?

Today I think I gave it my best. The course was a muddy, peanut butter mess--AGAIN! Where I could go fast, I tried to pedal hard, smooth, and fast. Where it was peanut butter, I tried to stay upright. Like the last race, my confidence was shot every time my bike slid down a root almost sending me to the ground. In fact, I hit another tree in the first 1,000 feet as my rear wheel slid out from too much rear brake! I didn't go down this time, but it was a constant reminder of the perilous conditions.

One of the aggravating aspects of racing in mud is it doesn't feel like a race. It's more of how to stay upright than how to go fast. Plus the gunk and mud gave me chain suck about 27 times (seriously, it was probably that many or more) of which 2 caused me to get off and fix it by hand and another 2-4 times caused me to run up some hills. These are not excuses for my performance as the time lost didn't account for my poor result; rather, they are just inconveniences that I hate enough to note.

I finished strong. On my last of 3 laps I decided to take more chances--to push harder. I'm not sure the lap was faster, but my mind was in racing mode. I was remembering Jean Luc's tutorial on riding sloppy corners; keep the bike straight but lean the body, unweight the front tire when going over a root. IT WORKED! I actually did it successfully half a dozen times. In that alone, I felt almost victorious. I got in the groove occasionally--something I have missed since the opening miles of the first race before my crash. I need to feel that groove again. I'm ready to try. I'm ready to try harder. The next task is figuring out how to do that. It may not be in the next race, month, or even this season. But I have to give it a chance and push my "fun" boundary to see if I can extend it with more committment. It's about damn time.