On the fence about hiring a coach? I certainly was.
At the end of 2013, the close of a great season in the cross country mountain biking Cat 2 Women’s field, I found that I wanted more. I had this burning desire to be better, to be more, to be serious. I didn’t want to waste anymore time or energy on trendy workout plans scrounged up off the internet.
It was a big decision for me to acquire a coach at the beginning of 2014. Friends and fellow riders had made the suggestion that I get a coach for years, but I was afraid to take the leap. I was being silly, looking back at it now, but then again, in life, timing if everything.
I’ve been an athlete all my life, high school track & field, Nordic skiing & field hockey. I played Div III college field hockey. When I lived in Australia I joined the local town hockey club, was selected for the regional team (a Yank on a select Aussi squad was a feat in itself) and had the opportunity to take a clinic taught by the Australian Olympic Coach. Team sports come with a coach. I’ve seen quite a few coaches over the years and experienced a huge range of styles and personalities. But in the end, there’s no choosing – you get what you get and you don’t get upset.
Cycling is very different – coaches aren’t related to teams. Weird.
I thought long and hard about what it would mean to acquire a cycling coach. Part of it terrified me – having to be accountable and honest about every workout and every effort. Like letting the world read my personal diary. Yikes.
And I imagined the coach would no-doubt push me to get every gadget imaginable. Ugh… More importantly than the time and money I thought would be drained by these gadgets, I didn’t want who I was to become overshadowed by a matrix of numbers and zones to target and record – heart rate, watts, vo2 max, elevation, slope, cadence, speed, distance – and that’s the tip of the iceberg. I imagined a coach would stare endlessly into the streams of numbers unlocking the greater truth of my unseen universe like a fortuneteller reading tea leaves. I also didn’t want an automated set of workouts generated by software, even if the workouts were tailored to these so called data streams. I wanted a personal experience and I wanted who I am off the bike to be factored into my time on the bike.
I spoke with various athletes, getting recommendations for local coaches. Then I spoke with a number of coaches and peppered them with questions and comments. Some didn’t have the right answers, some didn’t have the type of personality that made me want to work hard. The whole process seemed like a bad round of speed dating.
Finally I sat down with a coach who’s response to my make it or break it baiting comment of, “I guess you’ll want me to get a heart rate monitor or something?”
“Nope.”
Huh. That’s not what I expected. In fact, most of things he said were not what I had expected.
Fast forward to a year later. I had the best season of my life. (see my 2014 race results) I worked insanely hard on and off the bike, and I built a true friendship with my coach. All the steps I had taken to get to Jan 2014 were nano-steps compared to the changes I experience this past year. Goals I hadn’t let myself take seriously were becoming my reality.
If your on the fence about hiring a coach, or you’ve gotten the bug to race better, take the plunge & hire a coach. Talk to athletes — especially those you admire — ask them what their life looks like after hiring a coach, talk to coaches, find out about their coaching style. What’s their personality like? What fuels you to push yourself?
For me, picking a coach was a big decision. And, yes, if you don’ t like a coach, you can always fire them, but then you have to start from scratch, and who has time for that?
“What did you do to your bike?”, “I didn’t even know that part could GET broken.”, “How did you manage to do that?”
Things I think all time:
“ANOTHER flat?”, “That sounds like a broken spoke”, “I need a zip tie”,”Why does the shifter casing keep breaking”, “I need to order more derailleur hangers.”, “Half a pedal? – that’s fine.”, “Thank the heavens for quick links”, “That’s not a crack is it?”
I don’t know WHY I destroy my bike(s). I’m not entirely sure what it is that I’m doing that is different than everyone else. I fall on occasion – sure, but not often enough to warrant the frequency and consistency of damage. I’ve cracked frames (I did a rear triangle & a seat post joint – on different bikes of course), broken pedals, taco-ed rims, broken spokes… at least derailleur hangers are designed to break off. I have YET to find a bar-end cap that will survive an entire month on my handlebars. Last week saw a broken derailleur pulley and a cracked shifter casing. This week I lost one side of my clipless pedals.
What a mess.
“You ride like a 300lbs man!” Maybe it’s is just my massive personality that is torquing the bike in such vicious ways.
Probably not.
In the grander scheme of life, I find this interesting:
I have had 2 serious bike related injuries in my life – a broken collar bone and a shattered elbow. Both of these injuries happened while racing my road bike – a bike I have never broken anything major on. My mountain bike on the other hand – I seem to break something on it almost constantly, yet I’ve had no serious injuries to my person while riding one.
The holidays are in full force and aren’t going to let up until the New Year. For me, that means eating a ton of delicious but heavy foods. It’s the off season – a time to chill out and eat to my hearts content. … BUT… feeling like a tub-o-lard isn’t really enjoyable.
When I’ve had a few days of over-eating at holiday meals, I swap this delicious super salad into my diet and the bloated, lethargic feeling is kept at bay.
Get the goods:
Shredded red cabbage
Shredded kale
Shredded brussels sprouts(if you’re short on time, some grocery stores (Fairway Markets for one) has this mix shredded & packaged)
Quinoa
Olive oil
Balsamic Vinegar
Salt & Pepper
Any combination of toppings – apple cubes, nuts (walnuts, pine nuts, almonds), leftover meat (beef, pork, chicken all work great), dried fruits (cranberries, raisins, ect), or cooked sweet potatoe cubes.
Easy to make:
Prepare Quinoa – follow the specifics on the package – typically you’d rinse it, put it in a pot with water or broth (2x liquid to qunioa) and simmer, covered, for 15-20 mins (the liquid should be absorbed).
In a big salad bowl, start with a base of shredded cabbage, shredded kale and shredded brussels sprouts.
Dump the warm Quinoa onto the salad.
Drizzle olive oil & balsamic vinegar over it.
Sprinkle salt & pepper.
Toss.
Add any combination of toppings. Picture above has apple cubes (gala or honey crisp work great) walnuts & raisins.
Toss it again and dig in.
Do you have a trick for beating holiday binge eating?
It’s Saturday morning, 4:45 am, complete darkness. After fumbling around for food and coffee, I jump in the car and head to Cathedral Pines in Long Island for my first attempt at a 6 hour race.
Why would anyone sign up to race for 6 hours you ask? Let me explain.
One of the biggest hurdles I had heading into the 2014 racing season, was the increase in mileage. My first race in 2014 at Hop Brook illustrated the situation perfectly: Cat 3 – 6 miles, Cat 2 – 12 miles, Cat 1 – 21 miles. The math just didn’t add up for me. As the season wore on, I acclimated to the longer distances, but even as the season closed, I still felt that distance was a mental barrier. Frustrated with that weakness, I decided to tackle it head on.
As I crossed the George Washington Bridge, the sun is just peeking over the horizon, creating a beautiful array of colors through the sky. Picturesque.
For those unfamiliar with the 6 hour race format – it goes like this – who ever can complete the most laps in the fastest time wins. So the hot shot who blasts out of the gate at lightning speed but blows up at 3 laps and drops off, loses to someone who maintains a slower pace for 4 laps. If 2 racers both complete 5 laps, the faster overall ride time wins. The other thing you need to understand is that if you roll through the lap line at 5 hours and 59 mins, you have to head out for another lap. So really, a 6 hour race involves AT LEAST 6 hours of race time, with racers finishing closer to 7 hours of riding. (Logistically that information is really important for fueling throughout the race.)
2 hours later I pull into Cathedral Pines and am directed to park my car along a gravel road so we can easily pit right out of our trunks. One of my teammates spots me and pulls his car up so I can park behind him. Excellent! Always good to have teammates nearby. Now that I have a pit location staked out, I spread out my food, drinks, bike tools, spare tubes and alternate riding gear in the trunk, easy to see and access quickly.
It’s time to gear up. What to wear? Right now it’s 29 degrees, but what temp will it be in the woods? At Noon? At 3pm? Starting out overdressed or under-dressed could mean a miserable first lap. I opt to layer up – thinking I’ll shed each lap if needed.
Registration is next. The folks at Something Wicked do a great job – the lines move quickly. And the race plate absolutely made my day.
The first real challenge is the start. It’s a mass start , but a little hairier than usual – there’s no staging, no start grid. All 300+ racers line up any which way, jockeying for the best position and vying for the hole shot.
It’s about a half mile of gradual uphill on a gravel road to the first single track entrance. You want the best possible position here, if you get caught up behind 100 people that have to now ride single file, you’ll be waiting and waiting to get into the woods. But everyone is thinking the same thing, that’s what makes this portion of the race so sketchy.
The gun goes off and 300 riders shoot up the road – adrenaline pumping, everyone is sprinting, powering, overtaking, bumping into one another, some riders are all already dropping, chains are snapping, wheels are buzzing each other.
It’s a lot to take in. I’m on the inside of the first turn, with all the bustle I keep my focus on the clearest path ahead, using peripheral vision to keep tabs on the riders who pose the most danger to me. I always enjoy powering out of a start, but in this situation I’m limited to the speed and power of those surrounding me. As we ride along the first straight away, I maintain my spot and start snaking through the crowd, gaining spots whenever a opening appears. We round the last corner before the single track and things slow down to a track stand at the trail head.
Meanwhile, the spectators are cheering, ringing cow bells and honking car horns. It’s a great vibe.
Just into the trail head, there’s a pack of 8 guys staggered, track standing, on and around the trail, moving as little as possible, then one rider just in front of me loses his balance and tips over, blocking the trail. Can’t go forward, I’d better go around! I shoot through the leaves on the outside of the trail, zip around the downed rider and back onto the single track and settle into a steady pace, catching the group ahead of me.
At this point I’m in the middle of a train of 15 guys. We’re riding wheel to wheel. I haven’t pre-riden this course, so I’m not sure what to expect from the trail. I’m reading the wheels ahead of me, keeping an eye out for any squirrelly movements – a train this tight – one goes down, we all go down. I’m not full throttle, but we’re moving along at a fast enough pace. About halfway through the lap our overall speed bogs down a few notches. After another mile the heckling starts up. “We’re not here for a Sunday ride in the Park!”, “Get moving or get out of the way!” It seems there is a rider who won’t let us pass.
Photo courtesy of Jennifer Carlson
After more intense heckling and rising tempers, groups break past the slower rider. Eventually we all work our way past. Now I’m riding with a group of 3, one ahead and one behind. The guy ahead seems to know the course so I hang onto his wheel until we emerge from the woods and into the grassy section at the lap line. The guys busts past me while I battle the sludge feeling of riding through the grass and see the timer says :51. The announcer shouts “Here comes the third woman through!”
Holy crap! Really? Third overall? That’s freaking awesome!
Just after the lap line there is this incredibly weird twisty path through some pine trees. I don’t know what sort of after thought this mess was, but it was my least favorite part of the course. Luckily it was brief. Back into the grass and then onto the gravel road along the pit. My fueling plan was to eat every half hour for the first 4 hours. But the idea of chewing on a nut and dried fruit bar sounds like the worst possible idea right now. With the relentless twisting of the trail, I hadn’t even found a moment to take a sip from my camel back. I take in a long drag now and reason out that not eating at all is going to bite me in the butt in a few hours. So I fish a bit of bar out of my pocket and stuff it into my mouth. It’s dry and sticky feeling. I imagine I’ll be chewing this for miles. I wash it down with another long drag and head back into the trails.
Second lap goes much like the first. I pass some guys, some guys pass me. I consciously try to consume more salt-spiked sports drink. My pace feels decent, lungs are in check, legs feel good. I force myself to eat more of the bar through the pit area and continue trucking. I’m surprised at how quickly the laps seem to be passing.
That’s what hour 3-5 felt like. [Photo courtesy of motocd1 on flickr]Third lap starts out great. About half way through the shit starts hitting the fan. The ache in my lower back I had been ignoring is building further. My contacts are fogging up. Calves are hinting at cramps. I’m wheezing. I back off my pace and try and sort some of these issues out. Standing and stretching on the bike brings temporary relief to my back. Rubbing my eyes helps clear the fog, but riding one handed is not the best idea. To battle cramping, I make an effort to drain my camel back. A slew of girls and guys pass me at this point.
Passing through the pit area I stop a few minuets to refill my camel back, grab more food and chug some OJ. I see a few more girls go by.
Onto lap four. It’s just like lap three. The constant pedaling feels like being on the rollers. That makes me laugh. Alot. I’m probably dehydrating into delirium.
Seeing the timer as I end lap 4 and start lap 5 I realize I’m doing 1 hour laps now. Ouch. Not pretty.
Heading into lap 5 I’m wondering why I decided to do this race.
Why did I do this race? A 6 hour race? That’s crazy!
I did this race to get over my mental fear of mileage. I did this race because I wanted to improve my endurance and targeting an event gave my training a purpose. I did this race, just to see if I could. I’m contemplating bailing after 5 laps. 5 laps isn’t bad! That’s 50 miles! 50 miles! That’s a personal record right there.
A group catches up to me. The first guy behind asks to pass. I let him know a spot is coming and where I plan to go right. He buzzes by seamlessly. Hearing another rider back, I stay to the right but he’s a bit over-anxious, and doesn’t bother waiting for me to call out a clear spot. He tries to blast past me but runs straight into a tree, falls over and lands on me. Nice one.
After some fumbling, we start pedaling again. I hear a friendly voice pull up behind me. My teammate Alex! She’s zipping right along! She asks to pass and promises not to fall on me in the process. After she passes I decide to stick to her wheel for as long as I can hold on. Before I know it half the lap is over.
Out of the woods on the 5th lap, and the timer says 5:45. Lots of people are milling around the lap line in warm,comfortable looking clothes. Eating real food. Sooo tempting. I came this far, what’s one more lap?
One More Lap!
Heading into the 6th lap, I’m just laughing inside. Yes, everything hurts. Yes, I’m tired… and cold… and hungry. But I came here to do a 6 hour race today. Earlier this year I was standing on a start line, terrified of riding 21 miles. Today I rode 3o miles before I even blinked. I’m not just overcoming that mental barrier, I’m obliterating it. I won’t get a cool medal to take home, but I’m going to finish this thing. All the way. And somehow that speaks louder than all the complaints.
So proud to be the Highland to Hudson (H2H) Cat 1, Women 15-44 Series Leader! The 2014 season has surpassed my expectations. Thank you to all the race promoters and to Jamis Bicycles – the series title sponsor! I can’t wait to see what happens in 2015!
Waywayanda Spring Cleaning – Rode a borrowed bike – a GT all mountain. Bombing the descents on this bike was so an absolute blast.
Taconic – I went off course (there were angry hikers moving the course markers!) and snapped my shifter off the handle bars rendering (I run a 1x) so finished the race in a single speed 😉 – Seriously gave me a new respect for single – speeders. I can’t believe you do that to yourselves on purpose!
Lewis Morris – That was by far the best race I had all year. Just gunned it out the gate and didn’t let up until the finish line. This was also the first race I did on my new Jamis Dakar 29er – what a fast bike! And it would have been my first race on a 29er as well.
Registration is next. The folks at Something Wicked do a great job – the lines move quickly. And the race plate absolutely made my day.
1st Overall – Highland 2 Hudson (H2H) Series