The Hurt Locker

I know people who refer to cyclecross racing as "getting in the hurt locker for 60 minutes". Fortunately it's all guys that say that and my racing time was only 40 minutes.

Don't worry Sully didn't let me race with the waterbottle cage

Sully finished building up my bike the day before the race and brought it by my work so I could try it out. Oh man, that looks soo good! I immediately jumped on it, nothing graceful, more of jumping onto my inner thigh and sliding my body into the right position and finding the pedals. "How does the reach feel?" "Uh, pretty aggressive. Maybe we (and by that I meant Sully) should flip the stem and try that". He did and it felt better, which meant I could practice my cross mounts a little more. "See you got it, just go slow, everyone else will be be, you don't look as awkward as you feel." Well that was a relief, I was assuming most of the girls in my category (cat 4, it's my first race so let's not get ahead of ourselves) would know what they were doing as it was halfway through the season. I rode it around a bit more before relinquishing it so I could get back to work.


We took off the next morning with two matching bikes (yes we just became that couple) and enough gear between us to make you think we were going back to Fruita. It was a short drive to the venue, about 50 minutes which was just enough time to ask Sully all of my questions. "Who will be in my category? How do I get over the barriers? Will everyone else be running? How does the scoring system work? When do I move up to Cat 3? What do I do if I have a mechanical or a flat?" He being the patient guy that he is, answered each one and then told me to watch "Joey's okay" and told me that it probably wouldn't be that bad, no matter what. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEGAIYKTZ9w 

Click on the link to watch, well not you mom. Don't watch.

 We got there grabbed our numbers, changed and started warming up and preriding the course. I was a little anxious because I had never ridden a singlespeed, let alone raced one before. Sully was good about riding around with me and pointing out things I should be mindful of, ride up this, don't mount back up here, run that section. On the backside of one of the hills it was completely muddy and rutted out. I tried to ride down the side of the hill but slid all the way down before having to up clip before I got completely caked in mud. I got

This was after 1 lap

out of the the corner I was stuck in and clipped back in to attempt some muddy "S" curves which fed directly into a steep embankment to get back up over the hill. I threw as much power as I could to get up but it was a fruitless effort and I lost any traction I had before sliding down. I fell into the side of the hill which did two things, stopped me from sliding down all the way and got my new, shiny bar tape muddy, maybe no one will know it's my first race. I got up and climbed out of what I imagine was a similar situtation the mammoths at the Mammoth Site found themselves in when they were battling to get out, but unlike those little guys I had a bike to wrestle with too. Getting to the top I scrapped what mud I could off and "cross mounted back up". The rest of the warm up lap was pretty uneventful. Afterwards I went and changed my knickers into shorts and took my thermal jersey off and changed my shoes because the bottoms had become so caked in mud I couldn't even see the cleat, let alone find the pedal with them. I pedaled around on the road and picked Sully's brain some more. 

At the starting line, because it was my first race I was in the very back, with about 3 other first timers. We took of- I didn't get the hole shot but settled into a rhythm in the pack, we

Here we go!

went down a steep decline before hitting a short flat area the goes right into a steep incline. The girl in front of me couldn't make it up which caused a rippling effect of everyone having to get off. I hopped off and ran around her and kept running as the next section was a steep hike up, plateau, steep hike up and then you were at the top of the muddy section. People tried to mount up here but I just kept ducking and diving and running around them. The girls that tried to ride it were getting stuck in the mud and I did my best to scamper around them. I didn't even attempt to mount back up but kept running and up the steep embankment. This is also where the hecklers were perched, which is a great place to yell things at people and really try to crush their souls. They were yelling things, nothing terribly inappropriate but my mother reads this so I'll refrain from repeating it. The nice thing about being the only singlespeed is they were super excited to see me and started cheering. Which was nice. I hopped back on my bike and started a flat portion. I got passed by a few people who were able to push a larger gear. 

A little dirt never hurt.

Next is a short hill that you go down before more flats and then a short steep up hill and with only one gear there was only one option. Get up the hill. I stood and pulled and pushed and probably made some grunting noises to get up. I made it and there was just enough time to recover before sailing into swooping "S" corners. A girl went down in front of me on one of the corners which tripped me up but I scooted around her. Getting out of that section leads right down into a section of two small logs, I unclipped and hopped off to run them. I got up that hill and jumped back on just in time for a short steep decline. Whoa whoa whoa- get clipped in- this in not safe, as my bike bobbled over some ruts and my legs flayed out to the sides. I definitely ran over one of the course markers before zigzaging over to the other side and hitting another course marker with my other leg. I got clipped in just in time to have to unclip and hop over two more logs and run up a hill before attempting to get back on. The mount up was a little smoother that time because I was on a flat surface and not acquiring speed. You make a hard right and descend down to the pit area where you climb up a longer hill. The first lap I got stuck and had to hop off the bike and run up. I got passed here but stayed hot on her wheel. We looped around went through a few more "S" turns before racing around to the start. Whew! Lap 1 is done 3 more to go. The next two were similar to the first, except no one crashed, I was able to manage to get around the girl in front of me when she attempted to ride down the muddy section and I just ran around her. The guys who were heckling helped me out by calling out lines to run up, which was nice of them. Apparently it was too early to do a beer feed, that was later in the day. On the third lap I was able to make it up the long climb that I had to run up previously, which I was pleased with. As the race wore on my dismounts got sloppier and it started to look more like an uncoordinated version of myself, but with tight hips. I come up on a lady on a mountain bike on the fourth lap and went back and forth with her through the "S" curves and over the barriers. She had a mechanical which is why she was on that bike and leading when she dashed into the pit to switch out bikes. I could see her and realized that we would be convererging at the same moment. I gave a good push to get in front of her and realized if I wanted to keep my lead it would take every bit of effort I had to get up the hill and keep her off, especially on the flat when she could push a bigger gear. I managed to get up the hill, riding, out of the saddle and grunting but did it. 

This is when you get in the hurt locker

 Okay last push before the finish. Do not let her beat you. I put my head down and rode but remained conscious of where she was at, one fault on my part and I would have to surrender my lead to her. We came around the last corner and I sprinted into the finish, victorious in my attempt to ward her off and the fact that I finished the race and hadn't thrown up in the middle. I got through the finish but always seem to have an issue with keeping track of my laps so I saw Sully and asked him "am I done?!??" He looked at my puzzled and told me that I was. I rode around the fence and he asked me how it was "Really fun." And then I started coughing, "Are you going to throw up." I wasn't really sure at this point if it was going to happen or not but managed a "No" in between hacks. I headed back to the car, unloaded, changed and then hung out for the next few hours for Sully and the other Raleigh team mechanic to do their race. We stayed for the men's pro race as well and it was really fun to watch, those guy are so smooth going over logs and strategic in their riding as well so it never hurts to watch how the pros do it. Before we left I checked the board to see how I did, I thought that I had only beaten the two women who I had passed but ended up 9 out of 18 on a singlespeed, and I was pretty pleased with my effort. I found that I really like racing/riding a singlespeed because it's so simplistic, you don't have to worry about shifting at all, you only have one option. Plus gears are shifty. 

I was thinking of racing the weekend afterwards but got a little caught up in my GRE studying instead. This weekend I'm in Michigan to race Iceman on a tandem, which we did a pre-ride today and it's going to be awesome. More on that later.  

Dream Team!

Zippity Doo Dah

"Do you need me to turn around?"
"No I just need a minute." and someone to see what happens when I crash....

I was standing on the top of a hill holding my bike and looking apprehensively over both edges. It was a long way down and the trail continued a little further in front of me before taking a sharp 90 degree turn plunging into the dark depths below.

It's amazing what can paralyze you for no real reason.

"Uh, sorry! Just give me another minute." I hollered down to Sully who was patiently waiting for me at the bottom. Every worse case scenerio flashed before my eyes. My legs giving out and me falling over the edge and landing on my head, not making the turn and careening over the ledge only to leave a mangled mess of flesh and bones for Sully to find, oh I hope his phone has service! Ohhh I hope no snakes show up (my two biggest fears come to life a snake pushes me over a ledge.) Or what if I start riding down and just start cartwheeling with my bike. 

My thoughts were cut short by Sully yelling if I wanted him to come back up.
"No I'll come down, I just need a minute." 

Okay, you know how to ride bikes, well most days, but today you do. Just get on, clip in, put the seat down and get all the way back. If Wayne was here he would be calling you a baby, because that's what you're being. It will be over in 10 maybe 15 seconds. How long did it take to do Leadville, yah it will be wayyyy shorter than that. This was my inner dialogue as I psyched myself up. I cautiously got on and started pedaling while realizing I needed some speed so I don't fall over when turning the corner. Just get back, just stay back, just....whoosh, my stomach was in my throat and it was over before I knew it.
"Yay! I made it!" I said as I rolled up to Sully. Lucky for me, he's super patient and encouraging. It wasn't so much the descent that scared me, I had taken steeper ones and survived, it was more of the height factor that I had to get over. 

Wee...Weee....Weeeeeee!!!

That was the second ride we did in Fruita, on the Zippity Do Dah trail. The first ride we did Mary's Loop and Horsethief Bench, which were both smooth trails. Horsethief bench had a big rock garden that I had to walk, and I was actually nervous about walking down it

It doesn't look too bad from this view...but trust me

because of how treacherous it was and how horrible my shoes are with walking. Miraculously I stayed up right and so did my bike. It was a great trail to warm up on with some technical features to remind you that you're riding bikes and not in Leadville. The view the entire time rival those in Leadville with skirting in and out by the Colorado River and plenty of sandstone cliffs right there, it was definitely not miserable.

We finished the ride, grabbed some lunch and headed out to 18 Road to ride the trails out there which contained Zippity Do Dah and Kessel Run. Zippity Do Dah definitely felt like a roller coaster but with no height sign at the beginning to help you opt out of riding. It was actually really fun, except for the three times that I was stuck on top of an edge making Sully wait down below for me to convince myself I wasn't going to fall and perish into the depths below. It has short very steep climbs that feels like a rope is slowly pulling you up because all you can do is sit and turn the pedals over and you have just enough time to catch your breath before it's gone on the crazy steep descents. Which if you carry enough speed will take you right back up to the next drop. We got done and Sully made the comment how I should have worn a heart rate monitor 'So you're heart rate was 180, but you weren't moving' is how it would have been when I was staring fear in the face.

We started the 10-15 minute climb back up to get back to Kessel Run. "I promise this one is not like that, at least none of the height stuff." Sully assured me. He was right (he's never wrong), it was a short snappy trail with lots of "S" corners winding through the trees. It was a lot of fun, I tried chasing Sully down but that never seems to work so just focused on trying to stay relaxed going into the corners, and being aware of what was to come.

We finished and crested the hill just as the sun was beginning to set creating a magnificent scene with the Book Cliffs in the backdrop.

It's like the cherry on top of a great day

The next day we headed out to the Lunch Loop Trail system in Grand Junction. This was another nice trail system with more technical stuff than the previous day but no significant height features and nothing too terrible. Definitely some walking spots but not an over zealous amount. I was getting frustrated with riding, not because I was having to walk, oh no, I was clearing most of the technical sections but then would slow my speed just enough that I would lose my balance and not be able to unclip and fall over. After about the third time Sully suggested loosening my pedal tension because of the fine dirt we road in the day before can get in there making it harder to clip in and out. I think he was just telling me that so I won't feel so bad about my lack of coordination that day. I commented how I kept falling to the right side (which is the side that the drive train is on) and how I usually fall to the left to avoid doing any damage to it. Sully pointed out that since I was still clipped in my body was taking the beating and not my bike. Always a silver lining. After about the fifth time he asked if I could stop doing that, I told him I would try. The last time the trail funneled into a bridge made of two wooden planks. I had lost speed going into it because I wasn't really sure where the trail was going and was searching for it. I over compensated realizing I needed to be on the bridge and felt my bike slip out from underneath me before I could unclip.  I went down not hard, but made a pretty good ruckus and then just sort of laid there for a while as I contemplated just what I was doing. Sully came back to check on me and to make sure that I hadn't fallen in the creek. "I'm fine, just forgot how to ride bikes, that's all." Luckily I made it back to the trail head with no other sensationally uncoordinated moments.

I'm hoping some of my coordination decides to reappear for this weekend, I'm doing my first cyclecross race. A racer once asked me if I was going to do any cyclecross races, my response was "I think that requires more coordination than my body has ever known." I told my mom and she asked if it's a race where a lot of people crash. I paused and then replied "No." She thanked me for lying.

In case you're wondering...we're still dating despite my lack of coordination

Life After Leadville

Life after Leadville has actually contained a considerable amount of riding bikes, far less than I used to in preparation of the race but more than I thought I would be doing. I took almost two weeks off. The third week some friends talked about riding White Ranch after work. I wasn't sure I wanted to go because even at my peak fitness level they are still considerably faster than me and it was also the same route that I had crashed and banged up my helmet earlier in the season. I was able to talk Sully into coming with me even though he is also a lot faster than me he could at least drive me home if I hit my head again. We got stuck in traffic leaving Boulder and texted the group to let them know they could leave without us and maybe we would see them out there. We started the long climb up, which was considerably looser and much more rockier than the previous time I had rode it. Sully dropped me pretty quick (good thing we're dating and I don't have to pretend to be fast anymore). After meeting him at the top and not seeing anyone else in the group we started to loop around into a figure eight that would take us back down the mountain. The loop at the top is really fluid and smooth and fun with a few waterbars and some quick short drops and ascends. The next portion is rather a long descent. I rode pretty conservatively, almost annoyingly so. I'm not exactly sure how it happened but on one of the first waterbars I managed to fumble over not land right and get thrown from the bike, landing promptly on a rock. "Ouch! That really hurt!" I told it. Luckily Sully  was far enough ahead that he didn't see how horribly uncoordinated I can be on a bike so we're still together. I pretty much psyched myself out after that and rode excessively cautiously. I walked things that I had cleared before and didn't even entertain the idea of trying to ride where I had hucked myself off the bike. I didn't think my crash was that bad, (no crash is over a 2 on a scale of 1 to Traumatic Brain Injury, if I remember my name) but commanded the worst bruise of my life out of it.

"That was incredible! It was soo awesome it's almost unbelievable." I stated after a ride where I got completely dropped by a bunch of Trek guys in the dark. When I state it like that you're probably really confused why I'm still relishing in it. Last week I got sent to Trek for work (which is pretty awesome in itself). They brought in dealers from all over the country to ride bikes, see the inner workings of the company and gain some product knowledge. It was the perfect blend of listening to lectures and getting to "harvest the gnar." The first day I was in the group that rode bikes in the afternoon and saw the process of how they make their carbon frames in the morning. It's very

I didn't just ride bikes allll day...

meticulous, and awfully impressive how innovative the process is. But the best part was the riding. They have great trails built up right outside of the factory. Unlike Colorado where it's a lot of up and then down, here there were short ascends and smooth fluid descents, no major rocks but with lots of technical features built in, including large drops, gap jumps, skinnies, and teeter-totters. The first bike I took out was a Remedy 29er. It came out this summer and I wasn't sure about it because I didn't think it would feel as responsive as my 26. I was pleasantly surprised at how capable it felt going into tight corners and didn't feel like I was missing anything but was impressed by it's climbing capabilities. I'm not super playful with my remedy so I'm sure a more technically advanced rider would have different feelings.

The next bike I took out was the Crockett, which is new this year. It's their new cyclecross bike and has generated a lot of buzz because Katie Compton helped design it.  I figured I should try it so I could talk about it a little better and the fact that I'm building up a cyclecross bike but have never

There are cornfield right outside the frame...

actually ridden one, minor detail. Trek had hosted a cyclecross race the previous weekend and had built up a course for it. I started riding it around that and then just kept riding.  When I first got on it felt a little awkward, I was expecting it to fit more like my road bike but it was a much more aggressive position which took a little bit to get used to but it ended up being abnormally comfortable. I didn't try any cross mounts, mainly because my dad wasn't there to catch me in case I hucked myself all the way over and it still seems like it requires much more coordination than my body has ever been used to. I was tempted to ride it for the rest of the day but also realized that there was an amazing arsenal of bikes at my disposal.

I was able to return the Crockett and pick up a Superfly 100, which is the bike I rode in Leadville but will full suspension. Sully thinks it would be a good race bike but there is just something about a hardtail that I can't let go. I told him I would try it though and ran a couple laps on it, it was lively and definitely more forgiving than my hardtail. I was having so much fun that I kept talking myself into one more lap and was the last person back. Sorry not sorry.

The next morning my group took out the bikes first. It was a bit chilly with the feel of fall beginning to encroach. I figured to help warm up I'd start on a road bike. I took a Domane out which was nice but half way through realized that I should have not been a whimp about the cold and fog and taken a mountain bike out. It was good to learn about it though because last time I took one out I had a broken wrist but undiagnosed at the time so was just fixated on the fact that it was suppose to be comfortable but it was in fact not, it had more to do with the two broken bones in my wrist than the bike. I did notice that I was bracing for bumps in the road like I do on my Madone but would seamlessly fly over them carrying my trajectory forward.

Knowing I was limited on time and bikes I hustled out on a Cali SLX, which is a carbon mountain bike but with a women's specific geometry. It had purple anodized handlebars and I felt that I

If I cleared this and no one was there....did it really happen?

should ride a women's bike at least once while I was there. It was more upright than I'm position on my Superfly but with the shorter reach to the handlebars it felt a little more nimble and handled really well on the all the little technical things I did with it. Well except for one of the skinnies when I realized I wasn't going to make it the whole way and instead of bailing like a normal person and just turning and riding off I hucked myself off the bike and landed on one foot. Then I realized how stupid that was because that's how people brake their leg. One day I will be coordinated, but today was not that day. 

I had just enough time to get one more bike out. Most of the guys had the "manly" bikes out, at least in my size, the Slash 650B, the Remedy and Fuel, so I resorted to a Superfly hardtail. I just never get tired of riding it. I like it because it's so fast. The Cali is the sister to it, but is also a pound heavier and just didn't seem as fun. I went and spun some hot laps on it knowing by now where all the technical features are and hitting the lines just right. Oh yah... I'm home.

It just felt like flying...

Saving the best for last we had the option of a night ride. Which I'm not sure why anyone would say no to it, but a lot of people did. Fortunately my old boss had an in with some of the trek guys, I grabbed a light early on but still was trying to wrestle up a bike. I ended up getting a Slash 650B, which has 160mm of travel and more bike than I would ever need. But it was pretty awesome, except for the one time I forgot how wide my handlebars were and clipped a tree. Night rides might be my top 5 favorite things to do, in the dark all your senses are heightened, and everything is coming at you so fast that you're just thankful that you had enough time to react. The only time I really got nervous is when I didn't realized I had climbed up onto a teeter-totter and saw this huge drop that I was nowhere prepared for, as I began praying I was carried down to the ground with a fast plunge and a loud thud. "Oh thank heavens!" is all I could say when I got out of the roller coaster wooden planks that followed. It's been a little over a week and I'm still relishing in that ride. How often do you get to ride with such amazing riders, on their home trails, in the dark and just get you ass handed to you on a silver platter. I'm pretty lucky. 

I realized the other day that I actually have another race in less than a month, which seemed so far away after Leadville. It will certainly be fun, it's Iceman in Michigan on November 2 and I'm doing it on a tandem. You're probably thinking none of that sentence sounds fun. But I assure you it will be. 

I'm also planning a trip to Fruita in about a week with Sully, he has some time off from his race schedule and work has been a little hetic lately so it will be a nice break to just ride bikes all day. I have to get a new camelbak for it, as I left a big air canister in mine after Leadville and it exploded, luckily not while I was wearing it...but lesson learned.

Might be time to stop wearing the kids one too.

Uncharted: The Leadville 100

"We have not journeyed all this way across the centuries, across the oceans, across the prairies, because we are made of sugar candy." -Sir Winston Churchill 

"I'm so excited!! It's like Christmas morning but it's going to last all day!" I exclaimed the night before Leadville. Nothing should stop me from getting to the starting line at this point.

After my frame broke on Wednesday and the chaos that surrounded getting a new bike I was just happy to be there. The Raleigh that the guy I'm dating (per request of my mother I'll give him a name), "Sully" tracked down would have been a great bike to ride but the next day (Thursday, the day we left for the race), Trek sent us some of their rental fleet which conveniently enough had a Superfly SL Elite 17.5 in the mix. Not exactly my bike but a very similar fit, slightly different gearing, no lockout on the front suspension, and a pound lighter than my bike. It required minimal changes too, pedals, saddle, and wheels were all we switched out and then we were off. 

The packet pickup only lasted till 10 on Friday and once we finished that we moseyed over to the expo to get a t-shirt and hang out till the athlete's meeting. We stopped by the Shimano tent where we knew some of the guys working it (okay I knew 1, Sully knew the rest). One made the comment that he hopes he's around if something breaks on my bike and Sully has to tell me how to fix it (technically our crew could give us spare parts but weren't allowed to touch our bikes) he figured it would be the end of our relationship at that point. It would have been pretty comical to say the least. We sat through the athletes meeting which was

more of a pep rally (I heard Lance was there last year). Afterwards we changed and rode part of the race course. I on my race bike and Sully on his singlespeed (he has multiple gears in his legs, as my brother would say). Because the gearing was slightly different on my new bike I wanted to ride Powerline to see if I could handle the lowest gear and get a little more familiar with the range. The bike felt really good riding the climb up, I was able to make it without walking which is what I wanted to check out. I've definitely learned my lesson about trying to chase Sully down a mountain so let him go first and caught up with him at the bottom. We rode the next section which was mostly flat and it took us to mile 27 (Pipeline Aid station), well pretty close I took a wrong turn and we ended up on a road that paralleled with the one we were suppose to be on (day before the race and I still can't remember the route?!? Thanks, Brain!) I pointed it out to him and we turned around ending up with about an hour of riding. We headed back to the expo to meet my mom, Aunt Margaret and Wayne, they were offering a free feed for athletes and crews and that's really how I enticed Wayne into coming. After dinner we went back to the house where I took an ice bath (dream, last one!). Sully checked over my bike and Wayne provided much needed comic relief. We all went to be pretty early--I with much anticipation, excitement, and nervousness for what the next day would bring. 

I woke up early the next morning, before Wayne and Sully to get moving, get some food in my stomach and figure out what to wear. I ate the same thing I had the morning of the 50 because it seemed to work. I went over jersey/short/knicker options and ended up picking one I hadn't worn before but gave Sully my favorite (the one I crashed in with a generous

Can you see the excitement bursting out?!!?

hole in it) to have at Mile 40 if I needed it. We had previously determined that they would be at the aid station for Mile 40 and stay there till I passed back through at 60. One of the guys Sully knows was going to be at the first one (Mile 27) and said if I needed something he'd run support for me there. I was pretty calm throughout the whole processes of getting ready. We all rode bikes down to the start and Sully and Wayne hung out on the side where I was at. We went over last minute checklist, food, water, clothing, what was going to be at each checkpoint and Wayne found an otter-pop which he said was worth the trip right there. Everything was in order and I felt confident with all my preparations. After running 24 miles a day on about 600 calories I. Was. Ready. (name that movie?!?). Sully asked if I was ready and then restated, "oh wait, you were born ready." Which is what I tell him when we're riding and asks if I'm ready to go. 

The gun went off and it's a mad slightly downhill sprint for the first 4 miles as everyone is jockeying for position before it becomes double track. I wasn't exactly going for a recorded

and didn't want to crash and be miserable or the next 95 miles so wasn't weaving in and out like some other people. We got to the gravel portion and it didn't bottle neck quiet like I had envisioned it. It's about another mile before the climb at St. Kevin's starts. Once we hit that climb it got a little more crowded, one guy towards the top started walking which created a ripple effect. I didn't have to stop or walk because the guy in front of my was rearing to go and cleared the path to get through. I also realized in these moments of mass hysteria as people are thinking the first 10 miles makes or breaks their time that if the majority of riders were women it would certainly be more organized and not as many hot heads trying to prove themselves. The climb didn't last too long before it relieves for a bit and then starts up again. Somehow on the second climb two guys got tangled up in each other and went down (it reminded me of two bull elks getting their antlers caught during mating season they way their handlebars were twisted up in each other and there was a dazed and confused look happening). It starts to dip and dive and pulls you right into the first aid station at mile 11. No one stops there and right after you hit pavement with a long descent. I pulled out some food to eat, and noticed that I was behind on my fluid intake. I also put in one headphone because 89 miles is a long time to be alone with your thoughts. I was able to wolf down all my food right before it turns back to climbing. This section turns onto Hagerman Pass (the backside of powerline) and involves (surprise!) more climbing. I get frustrated sometimes with how much I get passed descending only to pass them again on the climbs (things I need to work on: chasing Sully down a mountain and not crashing). I made friends briefly with a guy on the climb and chatted with him about how nice the weather was being. I was a little nervous for Powerline because it's pretty limited with the lines you can take and with so many other riders around you can't control what they're going to do. I just kept repeating 'stay calm, stay focused, ride your bike.' I did get passed by some guys but they weren't jerks about it and didn't ride me off the trail. The last section there is really only one like you can take so I just got back, stayed low and followed the guy in front of me down. It gets to a point where you can release your breaks and roll down the remaining portion that links up with more paved road. Right before hitting the pavement there is a stream crossing which also has a bridge you can ride across which I took to avoid wet feet for 80 miles. We talked about having Wayne dress up and post up in the middle with a lawn chair and umbrella which would have been highly comical, but he wasn't there. 

The next section is about a 6 mile stretch that pulls you into the first big aid station. It's on paved road and I was able to get into a paceline and have a couple of guys pull me in. I followed the group figuring they knew where they were going and stayed hot on their tail as our tires met the double track that would send us around the corner into the aid station. It was massive, I had no idea so many people would be there. I started looking for the tent that the guy would be at but didn't really see him and did really want to waste time so just kept going. I heard my name and recognized the voice coming from the Shimano tent. Oh good, people I know! "How's the bike?" "Good, really good!" "Are you winning?" "Maybe!" "Do you need anything?" "Can you grab the banana from my pack? And take these knee warmers, but don't lose them! They're Sully's favorite and he said he'd kill me if I lost them, oh and let him know you've seen me!" "Naw, probably won't." "Great! Thanks!" 

I took off with an open banana in my pocket and a new surge of energy. I need to keep drinking because I made a deal with Sully that if my camelbak was empty I could leave it with him on the climb up Columbine and pick it up on the way back down. The next section between mile 27 and 40 is probably my favorite, both ways. It's not just up and down but more of a flowy, anfractuous trail and is the only part that contains singletrack. Right after

Running this might have been a different story...

not enough of it you get spit out onto a gravel road that carries you into the next aid station. I thought the last aid station was monstrous but this is split into two sections on each side of the dam. I knew that Wayne and Sully were on the second side so kept going. I was looking for a beige tent on the right hand side near the end. The mass amounts of people was overwhelming with so many people darting in and out of their aid tents. I found Wayne and Sully and pulled up, "Kate, are you going to throw up?" Wayne asked me. "Uh, no I don't think so." "Well maybe you should ride harder so you do." 

"Look I finished my camelbak!" as I pulled it off, Sully switched out my waterbottles with fresh gatorade and water and stuffed some food in my jersey. Brief conversation was had, "I'm feeling good, surprisingly good, bike is great and I'm drinking lots!" 

 I wasn't lying either I did feel suprisingly good leaving the aid station so much more than I thought I would at that point. The first 3-4 miles out of the aid station isn't really much more than short steep ascents and cutting through private property before heading up Columbine. At this point I still haven't seen the leaders, which I had mentally prepared to see them a lot earlier. This is the section of the course that I've done more training rides on than any other section. Mainly because after the crash I wanted to be so familiar with it that I could anticipate every minuscule detail in change of topography and react before waking up in the hospital again. Still I was never able to fully replicate race day on a training ride. The first two miles into the climb weren't bad and I was able to somewhat get into a rhythm, I had practiced knowing when to shift, when to get out of the saddle and climb but not having a lockout and different gear ratios threw me off bit. The lockout really isn't that essential especially since Sully put enough air in the fork that I wasn't really losing a lot of energy when I got out to climb. By mile 48 I was starting to fumble, I was getting passed by more people than I was passing and my stomach was starting to act up. I soon realized that my stomach distress was related to my Lilliputian-sized bladder and taking in more fluids than normal. Just get to Mile 50, that's all you have to do then you can pee, put on arm warmer's, eat food start the descent back and then see Wayne and Sully again. At mile 49 the gravel road funnels into a narrow double track with loose, rocky sections that is rideable when other people aren't trying to walk it. I rode up the first section and it quickly plateaus before another ascent. I soon realized I would be walking with everyone else as the trail isn't wide enough to accommodate walkers, and riders going up and down. The line seemed long but at last hope was in sight, getting so close to mile 50! Oh this is marvelous! This is the only part that I wasn't entirely sure where I was going heading into it, see the road branches off into different routes and the map is somewhat cryptic, at least to me. I've gone every which way it could be but still didn't know which door it would be behind. We kept walking past the really steep path that I was praying we didn't take. Okay we're almost to mile 50 (I kept checking my garmin), it must be down to the left just over this false summit, yah that must be it. I finally reached the top of the summit eagerly searching for the turn around point. Those dirty wankers! I see what looks like ants marching in the distance. The

course is 104 miles but in my mind they added the extra 4 miles on the end. Nope they're right in the middle. Two more miles of this hike a bike crap. This is the only point in the race where I start to question my motives. I kept walking and no curse words escaped but I started to trickle down to a dark place. It wasn't so much questioning as it was reassuring. I'm often conflicted that I should be further in my life than I am. While most people I know my age spent the past year prepping applications for grad school or finding jobs on Wall Street, I was training for Leadville and in that moment of despair and suffering while having every doubt flash before my eyes as I crested the last summit and mounted my bike to start riding I realized that this is exactly where I should be. One mile left till the aid station, I started making my plan of attack to not waste time once I was there, go pee, put arm warmer's on, grab food, kickass. Go! I started scanning for a port-a-potty which I realized is a laughable thought that they would haul them all the way up here on that crappy road. There were some cars parked there so I unloaded off my bike and dashed around to the front, Uhh! Everyone can still see me! Two things crossed my mind 1.) modesty has never been my best quality and 2.) my mother was nowhere to be seen but I did another scan just to be sure. 

I was walking back around pulling up my knickers when a man told me he moved my bike out of the way, closer to the food, it's like he knew me! I pulled up my arm warmers grabbed a slice of watermelon and put some fig newtons in my jersey pocket for later and mounted back up to start the decent back down. I breathed a sigh of relief, half way done. I saw the hoards of people walking up still which made me feel a little better as I gobbled down a fig newton. I saw one guy pushing up a tandem up and thought it was strange but a few seconds later saw his partner running up after him--which is probably how Wayne and I would have been on a tandem but he probably would have kicked me off a lot earlier than mile 49.

 I always get nervous on this descent but I felt at ease and once the doubletrack splayed into the gravel road there was plenty of room to work around other riders and be mindful of those coming up. I didn't push on the descent like a mad women, mainly because I didn't want to be stupid and crash, sure I was going about 25 mph but I was still getting passed. I harmoniously sailed through the crash site, which every time I ride by still sends a shiver down my spine. Turning the next bend I started to see the sparse people who were littering the side of the course coming up to the turn back to the private land, this sends me right into the aid station, just have to keep riding. I rolled into the aid station, (I was told later that I didn't look my best). Wayne asked me "can you ride faster? I'm hungry." which is exactly why I wanted him there, I knew if I bonked he might be the only one who could tell  me to "get my crap together, stop being a baby, pull on your big girl pants and get on the bike", and I'd listen. Luckily it never got to that point, but if you've ever seen Wayne go all drill sergeant mode you'll know why it was a good choice. I reloaded up with my camelbak and fresh waterbottles along with some aspirin. "Okay, see you guys at the finish line!" "Remember, I'm hungry," was the only reply. I took off, 13 miles till the next aid station and you get to ride singletrack in this section. I rode and was trying to figure out the

singletrack section, it's not easy to pass and I didn't want to cause a traffic jam if I was going slow relative to others around me. Luckily I was not the cause of distress. I followed one guy right into it who was keeping a good pace and stuck on his wheel, we quickly caught up with two guys who were riding at a much more leisurely pace, I was okay just conserving energy for the time being because of all the energy it would take to pass them and I wouldn't gain a whole lot. But then a long line started to form behind me and they weren't going any faster, I was tempted to yell out "Clearly someone's not doping!" but didn't want to make

Noby was taking tips from this guy...

enemies with 33 miles left. The guy in front of me started to get antsy and finally a girl who was about 7 people behind me yelled, "come on boys, my grandmother can ride faster!" which made them all get all their panties in a bunch and started  grumbling about how if you wanted to pass you should just say so grumble grumble grumble. The guy in front of me went for it which meant I need to go for it. I rang my bell to let them know I was coming in hot, threw up a prayer "please don't run over a cactus and get a flat", wouldn't that be karma. I was able to put some distance between me and them and quickly the girl who yelled caught up to me, I thanked her for saying something and we chatted about boys taking everything so personally and kept each other company on the shortest steepest ascent on the course, which I only managed once to ride up on my training rides and that was with a lot of speed and quick transitions from hard gears to easy one locking out the fork and getting out the saddle at the right moment while keeping enough weight back to give the rear wheel traction. Race day I jumped off and walked up with her. We got to the top and started riding again. She took off a little in front of me and I settled into my pace. This section is so enjoyable both ways because it's not just up and then down but more up, down, up flat, swoopey, down to fluidly going back up, and before you know you're about to the aid station. I could see it in the horizon as I started to approach another girl (one of my habits is looking at the kind of bikes people have...and not judging them) I couldn't help but notice this girl was on a singlespeed, I pulled up beside her, "Holy amazeballs (my vocabulary dissipates above 10,000 feet)! You're on a singlespped! You're the most badass person I've met and I don't even know you!" She kind of laughed, "Yah it was the only way I could get in this damn race!" "Well props to you!" Dang, as I rode away I should have asked her if she was single because then she could date Wayne! 

I was hoping that I would see the guys at Shimano on my way in and could drop my camelbak off with them but I started riding through the aid station and didn't see them. I heard my name coming from the side and looked to see Wayne and Sully, "What are you guys doing here!?!?" "Kate, you're not riding any faster and I'm still hungry."

"Here can you guys take my camelbak, I promise I'll keep drinking. "I'll see you guys at the finishline!" It was such a huge boost to see them there and to have them take my camelbak. I rode out of the aid station grabbing a GU from an innocent bystander, just incase. I followed a guy into the double track which soon turned into paved road, we were facing a strong headwind and came upon a tandem that was keeping pace at 12/13mph. I tucked behind them, no use in wasting my energy when were keeping a decent pace. I let them pull me and a few other people through the section of flat paved road. At the next left hand turn there is maybe 2 miles of more paved road before you turn off and start the climb up Powerline. I pulled out in front of the tandem, thanked them for the pull and took off. Mainly with powerline only have one route to go up I didn't want to be stuck behind a tandem or with multiple people behind me. 

Right before the turn off into Powerline someone was handing out Coke, I've never tried Coke while riding (I'm talking about soda) but figured most people do so I took some, and in that moment I felt that on the 8th day God said, "and let all cyclists drink coke!" Powerline is filled with onlookers which their infectious energy makes it easier to get up. I was able to ride up a pretty good amount before having to dismount due to the people in

front of me walking. I was still a bit from the top but didn't think it was worth the energy to hassle with walkers and try to navigate that route. I walked to the top and then a guy held my bike so I could get on and get steady before taking off, it's like he knew I was uncoordinated and unflexible! One of the tips I got going into the race was that after the Powerline climb keep riding, people will be walking the next 4 false summits but just ride, it makes it much easier. It did, walking that would have been miserable, riding I was at least moving at a somewhat faster pace. I kept plugging away knowing that once I was at the top, the worst was over but it wouldn't be done. Get to the top and then start recovering for the last big push. I can never remember how many false summits there are on the climb up, so in my mind I think there are 6 that way I'm pleasantly surprised when I'm at the top and it's sooner than I thought it would be. I flew down the backside knowing I was on the last

push. The last annoyingly long climb is on a paved road around Turquoise Lake, which is about a 20 minute climb on a training day when I haven't already ridden 85 miles. I set the attainable goal of getting to the top in 25 minutes and to keep drinking. My levels were definitely low and I was starting to fade, just get to the aid station and get some food and keep going. At this point I had flipped my garmin over to the map view so I could not see my time. I wanted to ride my bike and ride my race and where I ended up I ended up. 100 yards from the turn to the aid station a guy came and ran behind me and gave me a big push telling me I was almost there "Bless you and your future children!" thanking him as I rode away. Aid station only 1 mission. Get all the sugar. I stuffed so many fig newton into my jersey pockets, you could have mistaken me for a kid in Heavy Weights. My gatorade bottle was empty so I handed it to a volunteer, so I wouldn't be carrying that extra weight with me... I grabbed another dixie cup of Coke and started riding again. The last 11 miles isn't terrible, going out or coming in. There is a little incline to begin with followed by flat land and then a short steep descent which if you know is coming can prepare and hit it with enough speed to get you going and have enough time to shift down and keep riding. Then you descend, it reminded me of the last part of the 50 where you just go. I went, I was so close now, "don't bonk, eat a fig newton, drink some water. Keep going". The way back isn't the way we came out, it is for the most part but the last few miles they send you past where we came out and then back into town. Because it had rained the day before there were plenty of puddles left and I made sure to hit everyone of them. Mainly to confuse people as to why I was muddy because it hadn't rained at all that day. There is a grueling 3 mile long but, not steep incline that pulls you into town.  I've never felt more spent in my life. Running track races I've always had fuel left, I've always been able to have a kick, this felt like as soon as I was putting a fig newton in the energy had been expended within

the minute. It certainly didn't help that the toe I had bashed with a rock in the 50 was acting up. I debated taking my shoe off but that would just make for a longer time on the bike getting to the finish line so kept it on but relished in the thought of crossing that line and taking my shoe off. Exhausted and thinking this race was never going to end I finally saw the High School on the horizon, I was breaching the edge of town. I was so close to finishing and getting this shoe off! I was on paved road. Passing the ER that I spent so many delectable hours in the year before. Cresting the last hill that sends you down into town where there are hoards of people cheering you on. This is finally happening, I hit the red carpet that they put under the finish line and threw my hands up. Done! It was done! I

This if finally happening?!!?

rolled through the finish line and Merylee (the founder's wife) put a medal on my neck. "Good job sweetie!" "Thanks!"
 I hopped off my bike and plopped on the ground and took my shoe off, which apparently calls for medical attention. 

Finally! I could get my shoe off!

A doctor came up and asked what was up, so I explained about the rock and the blood and it was fine just needed my shoe off. I gathered my things and walked out of the finishing area. I was met by my mom, Aunt Margaret, Sully and Wayne.

There were hugs and tears and later after I had taken an entire bowl of M&Ms from the recovery tent (Wayne was hungry) I was sitting next to my mom and said this was a good way to breakup. She replied, "it was". 

I've didn't post about it for a while because I was using the time to really reflect and digest everything.  I took an entire week off the bike and was intermitten with riding for the the next 2 weeks. I spent 18 months training for 1 event (one of the longer relationships in my life) and it ended up being one of the most amazing things I have ever done. I highly recommend it. All this time I was finding myself and I didn't know I was lost.  

After 18 months of training, 2 race entries, 1 traumatic brain energy, 2 fractures in my wrist, 1 broken bike frame, 1 new bike, 2 new helmets, countless training hours, miles, calories, prayers, sunburns, te and years taken off my parent's lives I completed the Leadville 100...I finally got THE buckle.

Now it's time to go for the big one....

*I never could have made it without the support of my family and friends. My parents for letting me attempt it again even after watching me forget who I was and being there to nurse me back to health. Molly and Abe for feeding me. Mary and Frank who continuously let me think I'm a badass (Heidi and Kara go in this category too!) Wayne and Sully for not only being there on race day but riding with me too and being patient when I was having an off day. My aunts, uncles, and friends who have given me words of encouragement and support through out this ordeal.

I Know My Name and I Know The Year so it's Not That Bad....

You know how parents sometimes know when their kids are sick even when the kids aren't presenting that abnomal of symptoms that's what I felt like. I noticed something was off last Friday with Charming (my Superfly but figured I would share his name at this point) when I was riding up in Leadville, it just didn't feel right. I noticed the turning was sluggish and it felt loose and not like it should feel. I did a road ride on Sunday and then took Monday off and did an

Road blocks please go away

easy ride with Wayne at Marshal Mesa on Tuesday. I had thought that maybe the ride on Friday was due to the lower air pressure I was running or that maybe I didn't get my front skewer tight enough so put a little more air in the tires and had Wayne tighten my skewer. No such luck though it just wasn't clicking, braking was hard and the corners were lose. It was like I was a raggedy Anne doll. Something was definitely not right but I didn't know what was wrong. I told the guy I'm dating and he said he'd look at it on Wednesday before I went to race short track. The guy isn't just a guy pretending he knows what he's doing when he looks at a bike but is actually a professional mechanic for a race team. I trusted him to get down to the source of the problem, even if it was all in my head.

I gave it to him Tuesday night and he worked on it Wednesday morning and then brought it to my work, a lot cleaner, I might add. He said the headset had been loose, which he had tightened a couple weeks before, but he also switched out my skewer to one that was much better and easier to tighten just to be safe. I thanked him and used my lunch break to put together my gear for short track that night. A little while later he took another look at my bike and noticed it was a little loose again and wanted to look at it again. I don't really get too involved with the mechanics of my bike, I suppose I should but I trust the people who work on it so went about work taking care of a couple things that I needed to do before leaving.

You know when something bad happens and no one is really telling you what's going on that's what was happening. I was stuck on hold when I could see movement happening in the shop, my bike was suspended in the rack but missing the front half. One mechanic walked by mumbling about needing to look for a Superfly in a 17.5- that's my bike and my size, what are they looking for? I couldn't make out what they were saying from that far away but they were taking pictures and not doing a lot of work. The Guy disappeared into our warehouse and I walked back looking for him. We'll probably just need to find a part or something and maybe head up to Leadville on Friday instead of Thursday night. I was not prepared for what came next.

That's not suppose to look like that

"How bad is it?" I asked.
He looked at me and said, "It's not rideable, you can't ride it. It's broken, I'm sorry." And then I just started crying. How can this be happening, it's so close to Leadville. How is this happening again, I was so close. I didn't really know what to say. In between tears I stated, "I just want to get to the race." He explained to me that the cup holding the bearings in the headset had detached from the frame, which it isn't suppose to do. It's a warranty issue.

That's great it's a warrant issue, but Leadville isn't going to wait they were nice last year when I had a traumatic brain injury but probably not again. The problem I have is all the girls I know ride a 15.5" and all the guys I know ride a 19" or larger frame. Not only that but the type of bike that I need for the race is also pretty specific. I sat there for a minute in a daze and then took a lap and went to the office. I didn't even know where to begin. None of the stores had my bike in stock so that wasn't even an option. The guy I'm dating has a single speed that he could convert to gears so was calling around for the derailleur hanger. The biggest problem we were running into is the Trek World is happening in Madison, WI so most of reps for the company are at it which made it very hard to get a hold of anyone. One warranty claim and multiple voicemails later to Trek the guy I'm dating found me a bike. One of the riders on his team is the same size as me and is letting me use his race cross country bike. It's a Raleigh Talus 29 Carbon Pro. I haven't ridden it yet but we switched my saddle and wheels over and will put my stem and handlebars on tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be able to ride it around on my lunch break and then on Friday I'll ride up at Leadville on it for a short bit to get a better feel. I guess I have 100 miles to bond with it. 

I am a little nervous to be switching this late in the game, especially because I was so bonded to my bike and had really gotten a feel for how it handled on the entire course. I was telling The Guy tonight as crappy as it is to happen at least it happened today and not Friday when we can remedy it to some extent. Certainly not ideal but I know my name and what year it is so I really can't complain. But with the biggest mechanical failure to happen just days before the gun goes off, that means I'm free from them during the race, right?


Poor Charming, he can't take me to the Big Dance anymore. And I bought new shoes for it....

Stay Calm, Stay Focused

I thought I had done a good job recovering after the Silver Rush 50. I took two days off afterwards and spent Sunday eating more than just watermelon. I realized that maybe not as well as I thought when on Friday I was sitting on the side of the trail....sobbing (this is when you can laugh, I do).

Tuesday I did a short run and swim with a good stretch to get things moving. Wednesday I doubled up and did a short 45 minute flat interval ride and then went back out 3 hours later and did a hill climb. Thursday I did a short recovery ride on my mountain bike and then Friday I planned to go back up to Leadville and do 60 miles before entering my peak phase. I checked the weather the night before and it had a 30% chance of rain. It always has at least a 20% chance of rain so didn't think much of it. I woke up the next morning to find an 80% chance of rain. I called the guy I'm dating (mainly to reaffirm that I shouldn't go up and ride in the rain even thought I really didn't want to change my training plans) and told him my predicament. He's pretty useful when it comes to rides and routes so he rattled off a couple that would suit my needs, time and climbing. I was still pretty stubborn about going up but he finally said going up and riding 60 miles in the rain isn't going to be productive when you get sick and aren't in great shape for the race and then you'll just be cranky about it (I know he wanted to add, and I'll have to deal with you being cranky, but he didn't). He was right though.

I took off on my Superfly to do one of the rides he suggested. It started with a 6 mile climb up Flagstaff, which is a paved road pretty popular with road cyclists. I started the climb and saw a guy on a road bike behind me. I spent a good portion of the climb working to make sure he didn't pass me which meant I slacked off on eating and drinking because I was more focused on beating him. At mile 4 into the climb he turned around and I kept going. I got to the top and realized how humid it was and disgusting it was that I was covered in all this sweat. I then descended 2 miles which puts you at one trail head for mountain biking. I did one route that was an out and back 2 mile ride and did that pretty seamlessly. It was mostly climbing on the way up and then descending on the way back. I thought about turning around and heading back and maybe doubling up with my road bike but figured the other route is an 8 mile loop so would just add some extra miles that way and then maybe not do the road ride. The trail was a little more technical than I had in my mind, probably more of a ride for my full suspension. I set out on the way that was the least fun (mainly because everyone I saw was going the opposite way) to maximize climbing. There is a short descent in the beginning which was pretty fun, but then the fun police showed up and took all the fun away. The climbing sections were moderately technical and pretty choppy. A lot of really picky riding and having to react quickly to know which line is best. At mile 5 you have to hike-a-bike down a lot of stairs, definitely a couple of

Oooo....careful!

flights which I was overly cautious not to slip down with my shoe. The guy did mention that before climbing down I could turn around and do an out and back and do 10 miles. I thought about this but was already starting to feel cantankerous about the predicament and wanted to get off the trail which in my mind only having 3 or so miles left was better than turning around. I got to the bottom which warranted amazing scenery and stopped to eat something and looked at the map beside the trail. I then made the fatal error of looking at my garmin. 20 miles in 3 hours....I started the next climb up which wasn't technical at all just a little lose and about 20 yards from the top hit a soft spot and spun out and then just started crying, like what people do when their dogs die. I'm so slow, this is awful, I'm never going to make the cut off for Leadville.  I sat down next to my bike (like with driving you're not suppose to ride when you're emotional). It's like when you're watching The Notebook and first sad thing happens and then it's just a continuous stream of tears through the rest of the movie. Yah, that's where I was at. I finally came to the realization that I wasn't crying because I was riding so slow, that was certainly part of it but my mindset about going to Leadville was so similar to the one I had the day I crashed, where in my mind I was so focused on getting that training ride. Good things for boys who tell you not to be dumb. It also pushed my training plans back a little bit and put my last training ride up there closer to the crash date than I wanted. Then I figured out that's what I was really crying about. I didn't want to crash again, not like that before the race. I really just wanted to get to the start line. I started walking with my bike while still sniffling. I debated calling Wayne to have him come meet me at the trail head and pick me up so I wouldn't have to ride the 8 miles back home but then realized he'd probably tell me to stop being a baby and ride my bike. That might have been THE longest 2 miles of my life. I finally got back to the trail head and still had a 2 mile climb on the road before I could descend. Thankfully my body knew what to do at this point and I started to get back into the groove. I got home and took in a lot of fluids and ate right away which clearly was a big factor in my bonk. I plugged my garmin in and ended up doing 30 miles in about 4:20 give or take the 20 minute cry session with about 5,700 feet of climbing. All that climbing made me feel a little better about being slow.


I got my ride up in Leadville that I was planning to do that day. It included the two major climbs (Columbine and Powerline). I parked at the bottom of Powerline which is about mile 20 and then backtracked up to Columbine and the turned around and then back up to Powerline and then back down and then done! I'm always nervous about bonking at Leadville so I make sure to eat and drink by the clock and after the disastrous ride I had in Boulder the week before I switched my garmin to map mode which only shows me that I'm still moving. The ride ended up being a little over 64 miles, my last long ride before the race. The extra 4 miles was me riding around and back tracking because they took the flags out for the course so I couldn't remember which way one of the turns went. 

This will make anyone look forward to an icebath

I had packed a good amount of food including one bar that was 400 calories but broken up into 4 chunks with each one being 100 calories each. A friend had given it to me to try and figured it was worth a shot because it was low in sugar. I took a bite of the first block and chewed on it for a little bit and then a little more and then spit it out. Gross. It was grainy and mushy and too much chocolate. I guess I didn't hit my head that hard because I still don't really like chocolate. Realizing that I probably wasn't going to eat the rest and still had to climb up Columbine I dumped the other blocks on the side of the trail to lose the extra weight and mainly so it wouldn't melt all over my jersey. I got by on the ride with about 500 calories, which isn't exactly sufficient and realized I should start trying to eat more real food so I'm not feeling the need to brush my teeth after all the sugary chews and gels. I think nutrition is going to make or break Leadville for me so I've been focused a little more on what I'm eating when I'm riding. Peanut butter and bananas wrapped in a corn tortilla seem to be the forerunner right now. 

I did that ride July 26 and was happy that I didn't have July 31st off to go ride up at Leadville. I was really anxious about that day and wasn't sure how to approach it, it is just a day and the really bad day already happened but still it was looming. The Monday before I went back to Leadville to ride the first 20 or so miles from the bottom of St. Kevin's down Powerline and then loop around to my car. That ride went pretty well, I got a little nervous when I was on the top of Powerline when it started lightning and thundering, that's just what I need to get struck. Luckily I was beginning the descent so put my rain jacket on and the cloud just sat at top there so I wasn't in the rain very long. Tuesday I did a recovery ride and then it was here, Wednesday July 31st. It's a weird day, do I celebrate it because the crash wasn't as bad as it could have been and I'm still alive? How do I acknowledge that it was a significant turning point in my life without dwelling on it? My initial thought was to stay in bed all day just to be safe but was on the schedule to work at 8. CU Cycling puts on a short track series in the summer which I've been doing when it works out with my schedule. It did that day. I thought about not doing it, just not riding my bike at all because why risk crashing. But it's more about the date than the actual day itself. I stared the race, which is only 20 minutes at Valmont which equates to anywhere from 3-6 laps depending on the route. A lot is dependent on the start and your position there. I started out and got into 8th place. I'm still not super aggressive passing on the single track like I need to be and when there was an opening I jumped at it. I moved into 5th but went into a corner a little to hot and immediately after that the trail splits into two. I didn't commit to one direction in time and ended up having my real wheel go down. I went down and got passed by all the people I had just passed then 

Wayne came to watch me! (and ride his bike)

some. I scampered back up and took off, two options came to my mind. A.) Feel sorry for myself that I had crashed on the day that I didn't want to crash and ride the rest of the race casual B.) Don't feel sorry for myself and just ride your bike. After a brief moment of pondering I went for it, mainly just to pass the people that had just passed me. I fought back to the front and was in 3rd when the girl in front of me crashed and I was so close behind her that I double checked to make sure she was okay when we both got passed by the lady in 4th. I took off to catch her but then the rest of the course didn't warrant a good place to pass and the sprint to the finish was only about 15 yards and I wasn't able to get her. I was actually more happy about the fact that I crashed, didn't end up in the hospital and was able to keep riding. Put that one in the win column.

My final training ride up at Leadville happened last Friday. I rode the last 20 miles of the route so now have ridden every part of the course multiple times. I was nervous about going up there for "one last training ride" because last year those became famous last words. Before I left the guy I'm dating just told me to "stay calm, stay focused" he also told me that I know how to mountain bike in case I forgot that little tidbit. The ride was good, I went the opposite way that I did on Monday. I rode without a camelbak but when I went to take my first drink of water realized there was a crack in the bottle, I drank more cautiously but was glad I was only going to be out for 2 hours at that point. I managed to finish with no spectacular crashes or really any eventful things happening.

All that is left to do now is get to the starting line.