Category: h2hrace

I know my legs are still fried from the Stewart 45. I know that I’m mentally and physically in need of recovery time after the final peak of the my season in Boston. I know this, I do, but I just can’t help racing the summer scramble – this course is just too fun to pass up. So, off season can start tomorrow. 🙂

Pre-ride with the MTBNJ boys.

This nice fellow let me borrow his pump. Thanks for helping me out!

Trying to hide in the shade while waiting for our starts.

Small field for today’s race. Man is that sun hot!

And we are off!

A few gruelling laps later I roll through in 3rd place!
Ok, I think the season is really over now.

There was a solid drizzle of rain all night and all morning. Having rode The Millstone Grind after torrential rains that made the trail a 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 usual 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. 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 to 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.  PROGRESS.

I was surprisingly calm heading into this race. This is one of my 2 target races or “A races”. I love this place, and the technical course suits me. Once I found out the State Championships were here, I couldn’t wait to race.

I’ve been getting to races earlier than previous years. Chatting with everyone before races used to put me in a weird mind-space, but now I find relaxing – it takes my mind off the nerves.

Coach Ken suggested I do some practice starts – this was an excellent idea – I was able to find a solid plan for my starting foot position and clipping in.

While we are lined up, a few stages back, a big commotion occurs upfront and someone calls over the EMTs. The guys in the tangle are up and moving before long. I later find out my teammate Utah Joe was involved in the wreck and sustained a concussion – which stinks, because this course really suits him.

Pretty soon my group is poised to go. I know some of the other riders. Dar & Maryanne of Team Campmour are both seasoned Pros and really solid riders – strong and smooth through the rocks. They are the type of riders who ride their own pace and pass everyone on the last lap, when everyone else is fatiguing.

It had down-poured the day before, and although Jungle tends to drain well so that at least there are no huge mud bogs, the rocks are indeed slippery.

I hear my name shouted from the sidelines and I see my kids, Kai & Maddy and husband Jason have come!  I’m so surprised and happy I start tearing up. Jeezus! I better not cry at the start of a race. How tough is that? Deep breath. Check my foot position.

Go!

I clip in smoothly and start pedaling down the open fire road. The road descends lightly, then takes a right turn over loose, chewed up ground. I anticipated this being a rough turn within a pack, one person hits the brakes to hard and everyone will be wiped out or everyone will take it slowly and the group momentum stalls out. The road immediately starts to climb, so losing momentum at the base would make the hill doubly hard. Either way, I want to be out in front.

A few more strong pedal strokes and I’ve got the hole shot! I know I’ll be able to take this turn faster than the pack, so I do! And I just kept pedaling, steady & strong. I’m up the climb and into single track.

The slipperiness of the rocks, along with my race excitement puts me in a rather tense position, I continually tell myself to relax, I have more dabs than I would normally on this course. With each mistake I keep telling my self to relax, get into a groove and ride clean lines.

I’m catching guys like crazy. Everyone is being incredibly gracious about letting me pass. Somewhere at the top of the climb the trails overlap (not too closely, but I didn’t know that at the time) and I catch a glimpse of Dar pedaling away. I crank it up until I get to Otter Slide, the rocky switchback descent. I had taken one of the switches too hot during a pre-ride and came close to crashing hard – it would be devastating if that happened now. I dial back my speed and ride clean through the descent, then I settled into the flow and turns of Warthog. Warthog is smooth and twisty and ends with some gnarly rock gardens. I have been working on this section at the Elite Endurance Wednesday Workshops, so I know I can crank through here — as long as I kept everything smooth.

I’m catching MTBNJ guys now. That’s never happened before. I see my family at the lap line cheering for me.

Into the second lap I see Dar at that same spot where the trails overlap and I think, “Oh crap! Get going!”.

I take this lap harder and I end up making more mistakes. (This lap ends up being my longest lap time.) At one point I’m clipping my handlebars back and forth across the trail – feeling like a ping pong ball. Not good. Stop this and ride smart.

Coming through Warthog again, and there are so many people cheering for me – people making jokes about stopping to eat sandwiches and stopping to take a photo.

I’m thinking, what are these people talking about, Dar isn’t far behind, and she’s steady on rocks, I can’t take that threat lightly. She’s probably gaining on me this very second!

I decided to dial back the last lap only to where I’ve got a solid handle on flow, focusing on riding clean lines. The slipperiness of the rocks is giving everyone a harder time than expected. My back lower back is aching pretty good. As I’m headed up the climb on the final lap, I tell myself to enjoy the trails, just like in practice – have fun.

Everything relaxes and I’m feeling good again. The flow is back. Legs feel strong, I’m throwing the bike around with ease. No one passes me. I’m catching guys and passing continually. I hear someone behind me for a while and I freak out that it’s Dar, but I catch a glance back and it’s just a single-speeder I had passed a few minutes prior, hanging on my wheel.  I catch more guys and more MTBNJ peeps. I lose my rhythm a few times, I can feel fatigue setting in, but I am able to regain control and get right back into the flow.

I get to Warthog for the 3rd time and I know I don’t have to worry about losing time through this section, I’m really grinning now. I pop out onto the pavement and I’m feeling pretty spent, I don’t sprint here, but I finish strong.

And it’s done! Boom!!

I headed up to Wayway extra early to get a run on Sitting Bear – a trail with an extended rock garden that I had trouble clearing at the pre-ride earlier in the week. Since I had used my training bike for the pre-ride, I was extra anxious to try out the new body position of my race bike over that technical section. I really wanted to get a feel for how the bike would handle and if I would need to adjust my approach.

The run through was clean, giving me confidence for the race.

As I was running through my warm up, I noticed the suspension felt super stiff. Lucky for me, Jeff Lenosky was kind enough to give both shocks a once over, dialing in the rebound to suit the raw terrain of Wayway and releasing the font lockout, which I had inadvertently click on (duh – I’m chalking that ridiculous oversight to pre-race nerves).

I had a clean, smart start and sat in on the long, fast prologue until Jane Pearson made a move on the road section. I knew sprinting at this stage could mean sudden death for me, but all I could think was, ‘Stay on her wheel! Stay on her wheel!’. She made a smart move through the corner, taking a line that stalled my momentum and then proceeded to accelerate into the wooded single track. She pulled out of sight as I got back up to speed.

I could hear the other girls hot on my wheel, but I didn’t look back. I just settled into a strong pace, hoping to keep the super speedy women behind me at bay, knowing that the upcoming technical sections would be the place I could make up time. The first few sections of extended rock gardens came up fast. I dialed my pace back to keep my momentum smooth through the rocks. I couldn’t hear anyone behind me anymore.

Most of the first lap I plowed along solo, occasionally catching a guy here or there. I felt strong on the open fire road sections, and really tried to power through those, knowing that was where everyone would unleash. In the past, I would be dead on these sections, especially on any extended climbs. I passed a few guys on the uphill fire road sections, and I thought “I’m passing someone on a climb? That’s new!”

My mantra through the entire lap was “go slower to go faster”. I had a consistent dialogue reminding myself to be relaxed, lay off the brakes & keep the momentum steady.

I drilled the loose, rocky descent, holding back just a little, hugging the rocks and barriers I would normally jump. I didn’t want to washing out or lose control.

Coming through the lap line people started shouting, “She’s just ahead!”, “You’re only 15s off the lead!”.

When I came around the corner I could see Jane at the top of the gravel climb! As much as I wanted to sprint up to her, I knew she would be really strong through the open fire road sections. I was hoping she didn’t notice I was steadily closing the gap. Jane is legend in my eyes and has excellent technical skills, so I wasn’t confident that I would be able to make any ground on the single track. My eyes were laser focused on her rear wheel. It was getting closer. I made a pass around a male racer, and I was sure she knew I was behind her now.

As we worked out way through Sitting Bear and the endless rock gardens I realized I could take some of these sections just a little bit faster than we were moving. As we ascended a rocky, punchy climb where the trees were really thin and small, my bike blasted through the brush, swerving through the trees, before my brain even realized I was passing Jane!

I got out in front and it hit me. I just passed a rider I have admired for years. Unreal. I can’t believe I’m here. Doing this. I became a little frantic at this point, and started back up with the dialogue, stay relaxed; just relax and ride your ride; keep it steady.

Through the next few miles of technical singletrack we yo-yo-ed away and together. As the rocks wore at us, I started to get a little distance, as I exited the single track, a quick look back told me that Jane had dropped slightly out of sight. I could still here her, so I knew it couldn’t be more than a few seconds, but losing sight of someone can be a huge mental challenge. Some people, like myself, often lose motivation, or course for plenty of riders, especially a seasoned pro like Jane, it might only motivate them to rider harder. In an attempt to keep the gap and capitalize on losing sight, when I hit the fire road climb I put as much power into as I could into it.  A few more punchy climbs and short single track sections and suddenly I’m at the rocky descent near the end of the course. There is no sign of Jane so I take this descent hard, but in control.

I’m rounding the gravel road to the finish, which is uphill and I keep on the gas because you never know (check out the finish from the Sugar Hill race). I use all the ecstatic energy I’m feeling and lay it all out to sprint through the finish as hard as I possibly can. UNBELIEVABLE! 1st! I’m beyond thrilled.

After the carnage at Sugar Hill, I wasn’t expecting much.

It wasn’t easy to drag my aching body out of bed, but somehow I managed. I was exhausted and was dreading putting pressure on my newly formed saddle sores. In the pre-ride, I had really enjoyed the trails, so much flow, and the enduro-worthy descent was something I was really looking forward to.

I was at the course extra early to help run the registration table. I find this job really fun, as I get to chat with everyone coming through. We had plenty of people helping out, so I ended being in charge of marking legs. Some really cool leg tats out there

As I said, I didn’t have a lot of expectations here. I just wanted to race to race. One of my goals this month was to change my perspective on hills & climbing. I’ve been so intimidated by climbing. Racing Sugar Hill (super hilly) and then Mooch (very hilly) did just that.

At the start, everyone blasted up the fire road and we strung out. I hung in with the pack, but was off the lead girls (Tori Nelson & Jane Pearson). I hung onto Jessica Cruz’s wheel for as long as I could. My legs were pretty sapped up the climbs and she pulled away. Stacey Barbossa was right on me and took a solid pass on the climb. I stayed with here as we made our way through the single track. Then we hit the rocky descent. It leveled off and I made a pass before the descent opened back up.

It’s an incredibly long flowing descent that the MTBNJ crew took extra care to leaf blow, so it was insanely fast. I pushed the edge of comfort, drifted some corners and let the bike soak up all the rocks at max speed. As tired as my legs felt climbing, I seemed to have enough strength them for this section. I switch footed frequently to keep my legs from fatiguing to quickly. I love my aluminum Dakar (my ‘old bike’) for this type of terrain – it almost feels like it’s setup as an ‘all mountain’ compared to the new carbon Dakar (my ‘race bike’). Or maybe I’m just so familiar with how the old bike handles in this situation that is the difference.

I rode the rest of the race solo. Just trying to get through the climbs. The saddle sore was on fire and my chest had a stabbing pain shooting through it – a residual effect of the Sugar Hill endo. The giant band-aids on my shredded elbow were flapping in the wind and eventually blew off. On the second lap I knew my power was sapped so I ran the obstacles I would normally clear. I finished the race in 4th. Coming in with no expectations, this was a solid finish.

I knew that doing this double header was going to be hard. And it was. But I also know that this effort will pay off later in the season. Let’s hope it does.

(photso courtesy of Eric Oishi & GTLuke!)