Now What?

I finally got the cross bike last week. To my dismay, the bike was not ready to ride off the showroom floor. After several hours of re-cabling, various adjustments and the purchase of a new non-setback seatpost, the bike was finally deemed “road worthy” and then it sank in…the thought…”now what?” I have a cross bike, now, what do I do with it? I believe the response in my head was: “RIDE IT!”

I set out on a maiden voyage, which actually included a spin around my super flat, traffic clogged, stop sign infested neighborhood. If someone were to ask me if anything feels different, the best thing I can tell them is YES, EVERYTHING is different. All spacers have been removed from the stem creating a center of gravity much lower than my road or mountain bike. I am back to using SPD pedals which take a wee bit more torque to remove the ankles securely and swiftly. The brakes have loads of clearance for all the sand and mud I will encounter but this also means on the road that I roll to a stop unlike more traditional disc or v-brakes. The saddle is a wee bit more padded than I am used to but none of these things are deal breakers. It is a new bike and each bike requires that you get used to it.

I am obsessed with comfort on the bike. I do not like hip, elbow, or toe pain of any kind. My first few rides are normally obsessive as I work to feel the slightest hint of pain and prepare to remedy it. Having a boyfriend that knows how to fit people comes in quite handy. Yet, this bike has not required tons of adjustments and wrenching. My first park rides were comfortable and fast. The lowered stem really helped on corners and descents. I have spent part of this summer bummed that I can climb with great efficiency…but I descend like a bird feather. This is NOT helpful or cool.

The next challenge…lifting this bike over barriers. Like most women, my upper body strength is like that of a moth or gangly bird. My height is already working against me but now I have to heave a bike over a barrier and get back in the saddle with a great amount of efficiency. Hmmmm. I have no desires to turn my upper body into a ripped machine…I just have to be able to get the bike safely over the barriers…or risk slinging the frame into a group of racers. I will not win any friends there.

My first race is a little under a month away. I feel somewhat prepared but disgustingly anxious at the same time. Preparing for a foot race is EASY; All I have to do is run. This is different…VERY different. I hate to disappoint others, embarrass myself, or God forbid, wreck someone.

As if that were not enough….track season is getting closer…and closer…and closer….

Good is enough sometimes…

I picked up cycling as a “divorce recovery.” Basically, I wanted to take one failure and turn into a success. I put time and energy into the bike for this reason. While there are millions of divorcees around me on a daily basis who act like it was not a big deal in their lives; It was and is a big deal to me. When you divorce, your lives move on and you find a lot of empty space that needs filling. I could have spent that time wallowing in my own misery but that would have been extremely unproductive. I promised myself that I would not fold into the background, that I would try new experiences with or without someone, and I would be good at the things I tried.

Some people choose knitting as a hobby, quilting, basket weaving, golf or even scrapbooking. I wanted a hobby that pushed my limits physically and mentally. I wanted to sweat. Everytime I found an obstacle on a ride, I worked on a way around it. I worked to improve. My first “real” season on a bike, I was bruised, battered, scraped, and tired. A 30-mile ride seemed impossible. Yet, after a while, it steadily became easier and now my challenging rides must tip 60-miles to truly tire me out.

I’m not great on the bike. I do not walk around pretending to be great expecting attention for my cycling conquests. I am not some racing prodigy who is going plow through my competition with the force of a heard of bulls. I am not physically designed well for cycling. I am short and if cycling is not enough of a challenge, finding clothing and a perfect bike fit are. I’m never going to take a race series by storm and annihilate all of those around me. No, instead, I am going to go out this year, race, have fun, accept the risk (yes, I may crash. I may get hurt) and smile all the way with what remaining teeth I have after a few crashes (I have great dental insurance). I will NOT be reminded that I have only barely raced before. I will not be told that I am not good enough and I will NOT accept people’s criticism, skepticism, or disbelief that a 5’2”, 106-lb chick can race. Anyone can race. All you have to do is sign up and pay the fee. I don’t want to race to beat another or to show off my machismo (do women have machismo?)…I want to finish a race. It is VERY important that I finish a race.

I do not take failure lightly. I do not quit easily either. Even in Kindergarten, my mother insisted I was an overachiever. It was not because I desired to be liked by the other kids. I never cared about that. I liked the sense of accomplishment. I liked the sense of knowing I could do something even when others thought that I couldn’t. The rides on the bike that have resulted in grunting pushes to finish have also given me time to clear my head, accept who I am and not dwell on a so-called “mistake.” So while others race to get podium finishes, meet hot women (or men), or express a primal urge to compete, I will race this season because I can. I will never be great…but I will be good and sometimes that is the best I can do. It’s a lot easier keeping promises to yourself when you finish what you started.

I'll Snitch on Myself...

There are a FEW ways to watch the Tour De France in Louisville:

1. You can pay approximately $12 extra dollars a month for a slightly upgraded cable package that basically includes Versus and a host of other USELESS channels that you will only use to give your thumb exercise with the remote when you are bored with commericals.

2. You hopefully have a friend who has paid the extra $12 and you offer to cook them dinner, do their laundry, or care for their animals all from the comforts of their oversized couches (with the Tour in the background).

3. You locate a bar in town that is showing it. You are lucky to find a well positioned stool.

4. Find a local bike shop willing to host a dozen or so bicycle enthusiasts for several hours.

I chose option number 1 for a FEW reasons:

1. I like to lounge around on my couch in my plaid flannel pajama pants that I have owned since I was 18 (no joke…these pants have lasted longer than any relationship I’ve had). I like to eat a Klondike bar, some movie candy, or sip on a tasty beverage. It seems worth the $12 charge to have my OWN private bathroom only feet from my couch.

2. While I have some friends with cable, I cannot bring myself to employ the use of their couch for nearly a month so I can watch bike riders carve through France. I feel this crosses that invisible friend threshold line and I would not likely be asked over for holiday parties.

3. I hate bars. I hate bar food. I hate drunks. I hate sitting at a bar bending my neck upward while dodging mindless chatter of strangers around me. The bar is NOT an appropriate venue for the Tour.

4. My local bike shop does not have a couch and this is a required provision with watching the Tour. I will further have to engage in conversation about every detail of every rider. I just want to watch the race, not disect it piece by piece.

So I spend the extra hard earned funds, fully aware that it is an “extra” in life. It is not a necessity. For three weeks, nearly every morning I can wake up and turn on the tour. Most stages start at 7AM or 8AM…which means I can sit back, drink coffee, not get dressed, not shower and enjoy a stage of the race. Even if I do MISS a stage…no worries…they will show the stage at least 2 more times throughout the day and end it all with a recap show. That is quite possibly the BEST part of the entire 3 weeks. Not only can I watch any stage I want…but I can also choose when and how long I watch it.

All of that said…I must confess, instead of watching last nights recap show…the preview for the steeper mountain stages, the individual interviews with the race leaders, or even the cycling commercials showing sexy bikes…I watched SOMETHING ELSE. There we were, sitting and taking in the time trials from the beginning of the race when I remembered that Hot Tub Time Machine was now on Demand. So instead of listening to the strategy some of these cyclists are planning to use for the upcoming stages, we watched a group of men travel back in time to the 80’s when their lives were hip and they were cool.

Yes, we chose a mythical hot tub over a century old bike race. I’m embarrassed enough for all of you (the movie was very funny though).

Feeling the Heat

For some reason this summer, hell has truly opened up its doors thus engulfing everyone around us in a crock-pot of heat and misery. The interior of my car has exceeded 120 degrees with a digital thermometer. I could potentially fry eggs on my passenger seat instead of getting a bagel on the way to work. With this apocalyptic heat wave, riding has taken on a new challenge. Short 20-milers feel like century rides near the end. It is nothing to suck down 2, 3, or even 4 bottles of luke warm water on a ride. Once I am finished riding, I must attempt to peel my kit off in sopping wet layers only to immediately put them into the washing machine before the salt forms a crust around the seams creating a faded look on black riding shorts.

As if the winter were NOT enough punishment enough to cyclists, this summer is a horrible sequel to an attempted hobby known as "training." Winter precluded rides because of the numerous snow, ice and wind chills below zero. Your muscles do NOT work when they are frozen. Now, we must contend with 96% humidity, arid oxygen, and blistering sun. It's safe to say that when you are out on your bike, you look for lava vents to open in the roads at any given moment. To surmount ALL of this pressure, then I have to think about racing. If there were ever a time I felt in a frying pan, this is IT!

It was a large enough feat to commit to one team. This decision was made only after I spent days literally making pro and cons lists, carefully surveying every friend with a bike, and even consulting my family, who has NEVER raced bikes. It is a well known fact that I am a "commitment phobe." This is what a failed marriage does to you. You become overly independent and the fear of commitment seeps into your everyday activities. I am lucky to commit to any specific brand of toilet paper, let alone, a bike team. However, I made the choice...to say yes and race. Once I committed to the cross team, I came upon an opportunity to join another team…a track team in Indy. Hmmmmm. For some reason, this decision took less thought perhaps because I adopted the attitude of ‘why not?’

Now, I am flooded with raging thoughts in my head which can all be edited to one question…”WHAT HAVE I DONE???!!!”…I love the bike. I am good on the bike…but now I have to race in front of others, in front of other cyclists, friends and family. Then again, in 2005, I stepped on stage to pour out dialogue in front of a crowd of several hundred…so I can do this. Right? (It would be good to nod your head here…please). If anything, I get 2 new bikes out of this experience. Any cyclist loves an excuse to purchase ONE bike let alone TWO. I will learn from this experience…how to handle my bike better…how to deal with other riders…how to coordinate my kits with my bike…how to avoid pile ups…how to handle my nerves, quivering stomach, and mouthfuls of grass and track.

There are those people that NEED pressure…they thrive on it. They also have heart attacks and protruding veins with intent stares. I appreciate a little heat…I appreciate a little pushing…I appreciate a little competitiveness. It does not cause me to excel though…I am a planner…I like agendas and control. When I have neither…I feel quite untethered to the world. Of course as the saying goes…"if you can’t take the heat…"

I am not ready to leave the kitchen yet.

Fall Fashion Preview

Forget purchasing the tweeds and earth toned textured fabrics of the upcoming fall season; The main staple in this girl’s wardrobe is SPANDEX. The orders are in for skin suits, bibs, shorts and jerseys. Track and cross season require the same wardrobe planning as cocktail soirees and debutante balls (sans taffeta and parasols). Every detail is important from accessories (shoes and gloves) to hair (pony tail or do I work the sporty mullet?). Helmets are the new sheik” must have” ranging in colors and vent styles along side padded shoulder cross suits designed to make lifting more manageable (I beg to differ). Who knew that cycling fashion also offered functionality?

Decisions…decisions…decisions. While the skort is NOT appropriate for women’s racing (or riding for that matter), there is also the worry of “after the race” attire/ look. The boyfriend can simply use a wet nap and fresh clothes to spruce up. I, however, will need a full entourage bag with hair accessories, spray detangler, make-up and perfume. It’s okay to express bodily odor on the cross course or the track…but not on the sidelines cheering your team mates on with your fists wildly shaking cow bells. Besides, these days there are at least 4-5 cameras ready at anytime to snap, upload, and tag a Facebook photo before you can blink (Learning to untag yourself is also a task to accomplish!). I do not want to be caught sidelining with mud, grease, and sweat gracing this temperate skin.

Even the bike needs to be a part of the wardrobe. Nothing can ruin a look more than a severely mismatched bike, skin suit, and helmet. Perez Hilton would have a field day noting the destroyed crank sets, bloodied shins, and sweat stained kits. Thankfully, he is way too busy this season following the Hollywood elite. For now, the cyclists are safe to make small faux pas in fashion as only a handful of dabbling bloggers will catch and report them to the world (the readership of Perez Hilton and the average cyclist blogger are no doubt VASTLY different).

At any rate, I have saddled the task of forming a new and complete spandex wardrobe that I must make look cute but not too cute. It must look cool but not too cool. It has to be functional but not militaristic. If I were a pro, I would have a stylist whose job revolves around these key principles while I focus on riding. Alas, I am not a pro nor will I be dressed like one. My only fashion commitment at this juncture is the sure fact that I will have my jersey on correctly and my bike will be clean. My largest challenge will be pinning my number so they are straight.

I NEED MEAT!

Hydration and nutrition are two of the most important aspects of cycling. Timing, portion control, and calories become a necessity on any ride longer than 10 miles. Forget Gatorade, Kool-Aid or a Snickers…the science behind proper body fueling is noted by athletes world-wide.

As my training is progressing, I have started the task of hill repeats which is just what it says, repeating a hill with a set amount of trips up and down…up and down…. Within our park system, Louisville is home to many hills, one of which is, Cochran Hill a snake-like hill slap dead in the middle of the park. Repeating it burns your calves, your hamstrings, and your caloric intake.

While proper nutrition guidelines suggest the consumption of appropriate proteins, no sooner than I had finished my seventh trip up and down the hill did I desire one thing….MEAT. In fact, on the 6 mile trip to return to the car, all I could picture in my head was a heaping plate of MEAT. By meat, I mean BBQ…smoked and delicious coated in a sugary sauce thus possibly defeating any restorative powers to my twitching muscle fibers. Combine the heaping plate of meat that I did consume in record time at a local BBQ joint with the sugary goodness known as a “buttermilk pie” and you have a satiated cyclist void of hunger and possibly considering never eating again.

Every cyclist has pre, during, and post-ride foods that are their signature foods. I have seen cyclists consume Big Macs, pizza, and fried chicken (not all at the same time). I have also seen cyclists consume broccoli, baked chicken, and nutritional bars made up of 40 or so chemicals meant to restore muscles and hydrate the body. High end performance foods are always recommended by the pros. However, I am not a pro. I am a girl training to have a successful cross season and when I finish a ride, I am not about to crave a peanut butter soy honey bar and an electrolyte energy water. Hell no! I am craving proteins…heaping, smoking amounts of fatty proteins. Dare I say, I need it slathered in sauce and by sauce, I do not mean a Gu gel, or a HammerGel gravy, I mean, sugary, molasses laced, preserved BBQ sauce. I think it is safe to assume, I probably will not be asked to join some SUPER serious road team anytime soon.

Memorialized

The kick-off to summer is usually Memorial Day weekend which includes one paid day off and a total of three days of cook-outs, friend hopping, and endless snacking. This tradition was not deterred by occassional storms or relentless humidity which kept your clothing constantly "damp."

The weekend became a "new parent weekend" as the boyfriend and I navigated our future parenting skills with one golden retriever who is void of ANY usual adolescent behavior. While I was prepared for furniture climbing, shoe chewing, constant rough housing, carpet "accidents" and incessant begging for all human foods, we were  met with quite opposite behaviors. He prefers the leash, is quite even tempered and rarely barks unless his needs are not being met socially (he likes to greet EVERY dog and EVERY person). Even his separation anxiety is limited to a few minutes of barking and whimpering. He enjoyed a Saturday morning at the farmers market and greeted the locals as if he had been doing this tradition for years.These wonderful absent puppy habits allowed the "new" parents to sleep in Sunday and avoid dressing until the noon hour.

Buddy checking himself out before a walk through the neighborhood

It is important to take a break from parenting and thankfully we summed up the courage for a friend to attempt clipless pedals again while also battling overgrown trails on the mountain bikes. Vines, grasses and thissle bushes seemed dead set on slowing down a quad female bike group but we exceeded our own expectations by plowing through the trails and dodging an onslaught of sweaty runners. No one wrecked...no one dry heaved and this we agreed was a good end to the ride.

Self portrait in HOT sun...

Post bike ride bliss was followed up with the FIRST seasonal dip in the chilly pool. A loaded recyclable bag of tortilla chips, melted chocolate, strawberries and other salty, ooey, gooey snacks provided the post ride food buffet necessary for an afternoon in the sun. The sun, however, hid behind a massive dark cloud which never dumped rain directly on us (whew, thanks!) but aborted our chances for severe sunburn (we are thankful for this). Swim lessons and learning to float in a device that resembled an oversized diaphram provided ample hilarity.

Swimming with a large diaphram-looking device 

Being  new parents, getting used to doggie schedules, discussing optimal food options, treats, and potty breaks made for an exhausting weekend all in all. The best way to shut things down was with a grill, some gin and tonics, and a dog panting with the rythum of a freight train.