Kristine Contento-Angell

Month: June 2015

  • Lewis Morris Race Recap

    Lewis Morris Race Recap

    There was a solid drizzle of rain all night and all morning. Having rode The Millstone Grind after torrential rains thatĀ madeĀ the trailĀ aĀ thick, greasy, peanut butter slop fest, I was full of confidence for riding wet trails.

    I also knew this would be a disadvantage – as the course speed would be MUCH slower than I had originally anticipated. Stacey and Laura are both awesome climbers, and I was hoping to max out the descents to make up time, but with all the off camber roots on the downs – I’d have to be cautious and reel in my speed.

    I pre-rode the course last wednesday. The trails were dry and I was FLYING. I haven’t raced the last couple weekends, so I’m really itching to GO.

    It’s chilly and rainy, but I learned at Millstone that over dressing in the rain equals CERTAIN DEATH. So I keep to my usualĀ race gear. I run through my usual warm up/ skills drills and I’m anxious to get this party started.

    The drizzle lets up as we stage. The announcer starts us off. Jess jumps off the line and leads us up the gravel incline and through the creek. I’m sitting on her wheel, tight, too tight. Coming out of the creek her wheel slips and her bike pitches across my path. She comes to a complete stop to realign her bike and I have NO WHERE to go. I have to stop and let her move to the side. I hear Stacy giggle as she slips around us, along with a train of women.

    No! No you don’t.

    I jump back on and hit the gas, passing girls up the rooty climb.

    I’m back in 2nd position, on Stacey’s wheel now. She’s powering up the climbs. I watch her inch further ahead with each rise. I keep calm and controlled, thinking I should be able to catch some ground on the descents. The first half of the lap is mostly climbing, and she slips from sight. I edge out of my comfort zone in the single track, but I’m making time, I can see her green helmet pop back into sight. Climbing and I lose her.

    Suddenly Laura, who was missing from the start line, comes roaring by at mach speed. She catches me just before one of my favorite descents and I coast behind her, knowing there is little passing opportunities for a stretch. We hit the switchbacks at the bottom and her wheels wash out. She goes down (gently) and I slip by.

    I trudge up the next climb and before long I’m in the twistys at the end of the lap. That was fast. I can see Stacy’s green helmet as the trail winds back on itself.Ā I pass Art and he tells me she’s close!

    The twisty’s are greasy, not much I can do here but keep it steady and upright.

    Finally into the open gravel descent and I can let it go. I don’t see Stacey though. I pass the lap area and the spectators say she’s close.

    I put some gas into it and head into lap 2.

    As I start up the rooty climb I can feel my back starting to sieze up. The rear wheel slippage seems to inflame my lower back.

    I don’t see Stacey and I’m starting to lose my drive when I pass my teammate Norm, who is having derailleur issues. He gets pedaling again as I pass and hangs onto my wheel for the remainder of the lap, giving me MUCH NEEDED encouragement and advice the entire way. I try to stretch out my back when I can, it’s so stiff already and I can’t generate my usual drive up the climbs.

    We get to the end of the lap and he jumps in front to give me a draft. I grab his wheel, but the mud spraying off his wheel is pelting my eyes, covering my face. I can’t see. I have to drop his draft and slow way down toĀ wipe my stinging eyes.

    He pedals away.

    I see him ahead and try to motivate myself to catch him. Half way through the lap I lose sight of him.

    It’s just me and the bike for the rest of the race. The trail feels slipperier than the first lap – the mud now thicker, even though the drizzle has let up. I keep trucking and before I know it the race is over.

    Last year Stacey beat me by 5 mins. This year it was 1:13. Ā PROGRESS.

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  • ITā€™S NOT ALWAYS RAINBOWS AND SUNSHINE

    ITā€™S NOT ALWAYS RAINBOWS AND SUNSHINE

    Writing about the wins is easy. There is a high from the effort and the achievement that fuels the desire to share that awesome feeling with everyone while itā€™s still tingling in your limbs.

    Writing about the losses, the poor results, and the futile efforts is so much more difficult, at least for me. I barely want to acknowledge they happened, let alone share them publicly.

    Though unintentional, I realize that without the losses, I portray an unrealistic image.

    My two biggest fans ā€“ my 10 year old son, Kai, and my 8 year old daughter, Madison ā€“ are watching my every move and my every reaction. The last thing I want them to have is an unreachable image of success or an unrealistic expectation of achievement.

    For me, the reality is that I, like all focused athletes, face disappointments all the time: I canā€™t maintain the target power range for a workout, I pig out on junk food, I finish dead last (or close to) at a race, I break my equipment, I miss a workout, I donā€™t sleep well, a race gets cancelled, I crash, the list goes on and on.

    Acknowledging the challenges is important, but how we handle the frustration is even more significant. I would have preferred to lie in bed for a few days after Sugar Hill. I wanted to punch things after my performance in the mud at Millstone Grind. I could have easily thrown my bike into the bushes and cried like a small child at Bear Creek.

    Thatā€™s not the example I want to set for my children.

    After Sugar Hill, I dragged myself out of bed and raced Mooch Madness the next day. I was seriously beat up from multiple crashes, everything ached, I was bruised everywhere, I was so tired I couldnā€™t see straight, but I also knew that putting in a double header would pay off later in the season.

    My experience at The Millstone Grind/Winding Trails has improved my bike-handling skills in wet conditions.

    I used the heartbreak and anger from Bear Creek to crack a personal record for a 14-minute interval workout a few days later. (Nothing motivates me to train harder than a crappy race.)

    Not giving in to those very inviting negative behaviors is a win. Using any little morsel from those experiences to create something positive or to drive achievement is a win.

    Disappointment is a reality we all have to deal with, but successes happen every day, too.

  • Race Recap: Bear Creek

    Race Recap: Bear Creek

    Tough luck this weekend at Bear Creek.

    In 2013, when my technical skills were mediocre, I thought this course was incredibly demanding ā€“ the climbs endless, the rock sections impossible. Since then, Iā€™ve focused intensely on developing my technical skills.

    In the pre-ride on Saturday with Kirt, Utah and Nick, I sailed through the entire course without a single dab. Man, what a difference!! Instead of gritting my teeth and hoping the trail would end, I was grinning from ear to ear and wishing the laps were longer. I couldnā€™t WAIT to race!!

    Sunday morning Iā€™m doing my best not to get too excited too soon ā€“ I donā€™t want to get the adrenaline flowing too early. I run through my warm-up and hit a portion of single track to check my speed-to-control ratio. Iā€™m hitting the corners a bit too hot ā€“ this race is going to be all about control and riding the technical sections clean. Mentally, I check myself, and dial back the speed.

    Iā€™m at staging early and rearing to go. The other girls find their way over and we chat for a bit. This is good ā€“ chatting helps ease the nerves. The sun is blaring down on us, but I could care less. I just want to race.

    Finally, we are on the line and the announcer give us the go.

    I have a smooth start and settle into 3rd position ā€“ as per my coachā€™s advice.

    Iā€™m sitting in and feeling confident with the pace. I bobble the first bridge climb and Stacey passes me. Itā€™s just a dab and Iā€™m back on her wheel.

    Her and Tori get a gap on me by the top of the climb. The trail consists of a few short bits of rocky, twisty single track, and then heads down a loose fire road. I bomb it. Into the single track at the bottom and Iā€™m back on their wheels.

    We are trucking along, but I know I can roll these sections faster. Plus the more technical single track, my absolute favorite rocky switchback section, is coming up in another mile (or less), so Iā€™m calculating when and how to pass these two.

    We hit a rocky dip with a narrow bridge and the 2 girls in front slow way down get through it. I reel in my speed, staying on the bike, waiting for Stacey to clear the plank. Iā€™m setting up my timing to blast through this section ā€“ which is followed by a short, punchy climb. I figure if I maintain my momentum over the plank, Iā€™ll be able to pass her as we ascend.

    She has just about cleared the plank, so I put power into the pedal and hear a big clunk ā€“ like a dropped chain. I look down and see the derailleur is stretched ā€“ yep, probably dropped the chain. Gottaā€™ pull that out ā€“ I hop off the bike and start loosening the chain ā€“ only to see that the derailleur wheel is jammed into the spokes ā€“ ugh. Not good.

    I must shout out an explicative as Stacey shouts out ā€œAre you ok?ā€ I shout back, ā€œIā€™m fineā€ but I donā€™t think she hears me. I pull the derailleur out of the spokes. The spoke is bent, a quick check to see if the wheel is wobbly ā€“ itā€™s fine. Good.

    I canā€™t get the derailleur to spring back and pull up the chain slack. The other women start going by. Everyone asks me if Iā€™m ok, if I need anything ā€“ I love that about these gals.

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    I run through every possibility I have with the tools on hand. Not much to work withā€¦ I end up folding the chain so itā€™s not dangling low and skateboarding through the next few sections. Every chance I can I hop on and roll through the descents. Itā€™s actually quite entertaining to try hitting the rock sections without the ability to pedal and Iā€™m surprised at how much fun it is to pump through the rocks, trying to optimize my momentum. This would be a good skills drill. Of course, any reasonable incline and Iā€™m off and jogging or skateboarding.

    The crew at the top of the heckle pit also tries to mess with the derailleur, but, as no one has a chain tool, Iā€™m sore out of luck. I would have been more than happy to even get the bike pedaling as a single speed, anything to keep going. Just not going to happen today. At the next switchback, I pop out onto the ski slopes and coast to the scoring tent to report my DNF.

    Iā€™m absolutely heart broken. Uh! I felt great, had plenty of gas in the tank, feeling the flow, executing the technicalā€¦ To not get a chance to tear up these trails, oh, ā€˜disappointedā€™ just doesnā€™t describe it.

    I love this course — mainly because it illustrates to myself just how much I have improved my technical skills over the past few years. Itā€™s rewarding to feel the improvement and to know that the hard work is adding up.

    But, mechanicals happen. I ride my bikes hard (see Riding like a 300lbs man) and to be honest, itā€™s a miracle I made it this far into the season without any technical issues.

    I head over to my family and explain what happened. My son gives me a big hug and tells me heā€™s sorry this happened, but at least I didnā€™t get hurt.

    Iā€™m especially touched by this as just last week he competed in a track and field event that didnā€™t go so well for him – he didnā€™t medal in either of his events. He was really upset afterwards. We talked about finding the positive elements of the event, how to deal with feeling disappointed, how to use it to figure out what skills need to be worked on and to keep supporting and encouraging teammates.

    His comment is a nice reminder that I need to follow those suggestions too.

    Itā€™s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture and focus in on the negative. I wanted this race just as much as I wanted jungle. Then, during that first lap, I could TASTE it. But itā€™s not always going to be roses and podiums. Forcing myself to step back and take in the bigger picture – my season, my racing history, puts the ā€˜downsā€™ (like this busted derailleur) into perspective.

    The difference between my ability at todayā€™s race, vs. my abilities 2 years ago at this very same raceā€¦ night and day, and that truly makes me happy.

  • Millstone Grind Recap

    Millstone Grind Recap

    I deliberately left the “race” out of the title, because, well, I don’t think what I did should be considered racing.

    Drove up to VT on Saturday with my family. (The hotel had a pool, so the kids were happy.)

    Saturday night and Sunday morning was a torrential downpour.

    At the race, I could tell my head wasn’t in this. I didn’t stay for the results but I think I was DFL.

    The race venue was a farmers field that didn’t drain well – it quickly turned into a slop fest. With temperatures in the 50s, everyone was scambling to dig up more base layers, and limb warmers.

    The race promoters were giving out sweatshirts to all in attendance – an incredibly generous and thoughtful gesture.

    I was freezing during registration, so I packed on every last stitch of warm gear I could find – base layer, rain coat, under helmet hat & fleece leg warmers on top of my normal race clothing.

    The heavy rain turned the entire course into thick peanut butter.Ā These less than perfect conditions led to a sizable increase in lap times, so the promoter cut us from 3 to 2.

    With the pouring rain, I skipped my usual warm up and huddled under a tent until it was time to stage.

    I had a decent start, and slotted into the top 5. The first lap was insanely greasy. The rear of my bike was pitching out 45 degress across the trail while my front wheel pointed onward.Ā With the back wheelĀ sliding around, along with the pedal strokes that spin out in the mud caused my lower back to flair up severely.

    Halfway through the first lap the sun came out and IĀ realized just how over dressed I was. The wet gear felt heavy and climbing was painfully sluggish. I know the girls who’s teeth were chattering on the start line were probably feeling just perfect right about now.

    Girls passed me on the fireroads, I was stretching my back out and they were cranking.

     

    The first lap was pretty slow, I wasn’t used to the bike slipping out, Ā I didn’t know the trails and my back was screaming.

    I was worried about my family being stuck in the car for hours while I was on the trails – there is a good chance my kids are unhappy with the situation.

    As I came through the lap, my family was there cheering for me. They all looked relatively happy, so I stopped worrying about them.

    The second lap I started to get some speed up and started feeling theĀ flow. The mud had tacked up a bit as well, so the mud wasn’t quite so thick and greasy. I started hanging onto guys wheels as they passed and I realized I was babying my bike, my back and this whole performance. The trails here are constant single track. Lots of smooth rollers, plenty of twists and punchy boulder climbs that would be easy in dry conditions, but were too slick to even walk up today. I’d love to check these trails out in dry conditions.

    It took me an entire, painfully slow, lap to finally get my head into the race.Ā I was too far behind at this point to make any impact on my place. Clearly, lap two is not the time to startĀ racing but at least I had a chance to workĀ on handling my bike in wet conditions. Aside from that, this race was an utter embarrassment.

    Next up is Bear Creek!