I'm happy to report that the first races of the season went very, very well. So well in fact that I'm more excited than ever about the hard work, training, and nutritional focus I've been taking is paying off huge dividends. It is so nice to know that you're on the right track and headed for success.

So what to do about this whole boxing thing?

Yesterday I spent quite a bit of time looking into what I could find on the web. Basically I would have to go from a bottom heavy cyclist (though I can still do 20 push ups no problem and maybe 3 pull ups) - to a lean mean fighting machine. I would have to bulk up on my upper body and gain about 10 pounds in shoulder, back and neck muscles. I would start working on agility and footwork like a mad woman. I could hone this in a year's time - and gain back probably 90% of the capacity I used to have. The next year would be refinement and peaking to world class level.

In the meantime I would have to get high caliber fights. We're talking taking the ring with Russian Olga's and woman who's pictures are intimidating. I'd have to be in peak form and ready to throw down this September for the World Championships hosted in Barbados. Which means that I'd also have to win Nationals in August in the US. But there are only 3,000 registered female boxers in the US. And maybe a dozen or so that are seriously competitive in my weight class.

It would also mean hitting the gym in Tacoma and putting some serious hours in. Finding good sparing partners, working on hand/eye speed, getting the shit kicked out of me and then picking myself up, dusting myself off and staring right back into the eye of the tiger to do it again. I'd be conditioned to bells, 2 minute rounds, risk bloody and broken noses, knock outs and low blows. My head would be filled with the slap of the heavy bag, the rhythm of speed bags, the loud exhalations, the tap of jump ropes, and the occasional heavy thump of someone getting knocked down in the ring.

And what would I be sacrificing? Six years of dedication to the bike. And now with my performance levels rocketing to new levels? Gee, the answer seems obvious to me. But it's still worth entertaining the notion and checking it out.

I'm waiting for a call back from Tom Mustin out of Tacoma. He was the head boxing coach for the 2000 Olympic games for Team USA. Serious.

One Way....

This morning was a "ride and smell the roses" recovery kind of day. And on my return from Seward park, what did I spy? A sign near the Museum of Natural History in Montlake that was worth flipping a u turn and taking a photo of.

Whoa, seriously?!?

Remember how I said something really big was going to happen soon? That I could feel the energy building?

Well my intuition was spot on.

This weekend a dear friend Anju came and visited me in the morning hours before heading down to Mason Lake. We were boxing buddies back in the day. She and her husband Bill owned 10th Ave Gym on Capital Hill and I put many hours of blood, sweat and tears into their gym. She now has three beautiful girls - the youngest of which I got to hold in my arms.

When they had to close up shop and move to Austin for work nearly 8 years ago, I decided that boxing had probably run its course. I had been competing for the past 4 years and since I thought boxing would never be included in the Olympics, decided that maybe it was time to lay down my gloves. They sit in the basement, collecting dust.

Boxing was an amazing experience. Not only was I in the shape of my life - but I was able to participate in the first woman's world championship held in Scranton, PA in 2001. Talk about an amazing experience - and to be part of history? Unreal.

Thankfully I found reprieve for my competitive spirit in cycling within the next year. It filled my need to compete and for kicking my own butt. It was challenging but I immediately knew I could do well in it. (Thanks to finding amazing coaching and mentors along the way!)

And when R. Miller asked me to show him a few moves in his home on the light weight heavy bag he put up - I rattled off combos into the bag without missing a beat. Oh boxing, my first true competitive love. Muscle memory is scary, really.

Here it is 10 years later and this morning, of all morning's Anju makes a brief mention that boxing is in the 2012 Olympics. WHAT! HOLD THE PHONE? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some quick calculations were run - you have to be under 35. Check. It's only amateur - no problem, never went pro. You have two years. Whoa. Seriously? Am I actually considering getting back into it? Something that made my family squirm? Something that made complete strangers give Ryan a dirty eye whenever they saw my black eyes? Something that felt so good to my being and core that I absolutely LOVED it?

Tomorrow I'm looking into what's available in the local area for training. Why not? It's worth exploring at least. My mom is probably going to shit herself. I'm shitting myself.

For those left wondering if I did in fact puke down in LA, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it didn't happen. Try as I did to get to that point - even with the consumption of a homemade chocolate chip cookie right before a full max effort (thanks Liz!) - I didn't do it. But I did come close. And in talking yesterday with Izette and another Liz about my quest for turning myself inside out, it got me really thinking.

How often do you push yourself? Have you ever reached the point in some athletic or mental endeavor that you had an out of body experience? Suddenly you found yourself detached from your physical presence and in essence, floating above it and observing it with an open mind?

This is something I strive for. Something I dig deep for every time I have a hard effort on the bike. To be able to push beyond those boundaries in search of feeling disconnected from the societal pressures that weigh you down, the burdens of every day life, the nagging chores, screaming babies, and hunger pangs. I am truly blessed to be able to tap into this energy and can do it regularly. It is so fulfilling to be able to follow your passion and pursue it with such balance and determination.

If you were able to feel that nirvana - if only for a brief period, but truly felt it - what's keeping you from following it? Did you feel it as a kid when you were in art class? Did you feel it when you read a book? Were you in the mountains? On a beach? Sitting in front a computer? Where ever that place may be - that feeling you experienced, why not continue the quest to feel that way all the time?

Why are we locked down to be satisfied with mediocrity?

I'm not. I'm ready. I strive for adventure, to travel unknown paths. It brings me peace knowing that if it were to all end today I have lived each amazing day in the present. Some may call it luck - but I call it destiny.


Speaking of out of body experience - Fat Freddy's Drop the coolest dub reggae band on the planet is playing in Seattle soon....

Do you ever have the feeling that something larger than life is calling your name? It's beckoning you to be more than just a number, more than a consumer, more than a bike racer?

Something's brewing, I can feel its energy.

Ryan had a cousin named Dixon. Dixon had muscular dystrophy that ate away his muscles and reduced him to a fraction of the man he should have been. Doctors said Dixon would maybe live to 16. But through sheer will power and a positive attitude he lived till 26.

Ryan loved Dixon and despite his struggles sent letters back and forth to California.
I came across some old photos tonight. Ones of Ryan's uncle Paul, his family and Dixon in them. And there's Ryan. Prouder than anyone of his cousin. You can just tell how much he loved him. I bet they're hanging out right now.

These dudes are crazy. But it sure is pretty there!

Changes

My house is in utter chaos. There is stuff every where. I'm seeing things that I haven't touched in quite some time and it's making my eyes itch.

There are new blips on the horizon. Signs of change. Signs of growth, soon to be triumph and the ups and downs. But for the first time in a long time I feel like I'm getting my grove back.

It's taken some time to get used to my own messes. To be comfortable with the uncomfortable. But as my own dirty dishes stack up in the sink, I'm starting to get into a routine. The power is coming back.

The walls of this house remain, as they always have. But the ghosts that have lived in the basement, tucked away for a rainy day, are being stirred up and summoned to move on. I'm getting a housemate and he's going to live in Ryan's old office.

Down the pictures have come. The dust kitties scattering in protest, trying to hide from my persistent vacuum. The piles are being dealt with. The stacks of computer programing books are being taken off the book shelves - ready to go to a new owner. My own books, the ones that survived the basement flood several years ago are being moved back upstairs - into the second bedroom that is being converted into the new office.

I was ready for this change and welcome it.

Ah what a week. We did it all. From sunshine rides to stormy, tsunami warning rides with sheets of rain soaking us to the bone and sandy beach with grit in our teeth rides. A perfect way to end the week in sunny California. Our bags and bikes are packed, our digital cameras filled with moments of hilarity and our ambitions and dedication renewed after a solid week of training.

(Mary's response just now - 9 o'clock. YES! I've gotten accustomed to this lifestyle and I don't want to change it when I get home...)

An evening spent laughing with Gary and Anita at a local Mexican resturant in Hermosa Beach was the perfect way to end the trip.

The most awkward dinner - EVER.

Let's see if I can set this up right....

Earlier this week, Sunday to be exact, Tela, Mary and I rode over to Gary and Anita's (Ryan's dad and step mom's house) to borrow their VW Passat since they were going to be out of town for the week. We were super stoked to have a car since we're staying in a not so nice part of town - so thanks Pops and Anita! But the unfortunate part - the key was hidden inside a bird cage that when opened, the bottom fell out and shattered the blue bird vigil placed inside for Big Bird (Gary and Anita's beloved cockateal who up until they discovered she laid eggs thought it was a boy).

It broke into three pieces and I remember looking at Tela and Mary in nervous laughter and thought maybe we could find a replacement this week. Ha ha. Are you kidding me? I couldn't believe my luck. But being the aunt of Coleman the three layer cake tipper, well I guess I should have seen it coming.

The week has been filled with several failed attempts to find a replacement bird. Oh and we've been working out of course. Double days every day with the exception of Wednesday has added up to three tired chicas by the end of today. Our hunt in TJ Max was about as close as we came to finding anything.

Flash forward to today, an early morning after a late night of comedy thanks to Adam's brother performing in Hollywood - and several hard hard efforts of max capacity. Unfortunately I can't say that I puked on this trip but today was the closest I got. The conditions were perfect - thin saliva, light headedness, nausea - but alas, I kept the urps to myself.

Our recovery ride was probably the hardest ride I've done in a while. And judging by Mary's quiet sufferage by pedaling behind Tela, Liz and I - she was cooked too.

But the highlight of the night? A dinner at Tela's friend and his parents in Cypress. Luckily we had eaten a couple bites before heading out so we wouldn't seem like hoarders. Turns out his parents are pretty religious. We're talking TV turned onto the religious channel pumping out the beats religious. We're talking not one, not two but three prayers before dinner religious. And we're talking serious restraint by us three girls to keep swearing to a minimum since we've been baching it all week (cause we're not so religious). But in reality - there was no reason to worry about that because about 5 minutes after eating the homemade tortilla soup - Mary and I became sitting zombies while Tela had to carry on the whole conversation. All I remember? Homemade biscuits. And Tela trying so hard to make a conversation by pulling their teeth out of their heads. At one point the ceramic bird story came up - a perfect opportunity for me to add to the conversation. But all I could utter?

Superglue.

After a quick exit, stage left - almost the minute we walked out of their door, we uproared in laughter, waking up all of their neighbors by recalling how awkward that had been. Seriously. It could have been on some Arrested Development show or something.

I guess you should have been there. But for most of the dinner Mary and I weren't.

Close calls and reminders

After yesterday's hammer session at the track (Mary and I did 4 one lap flying efforts with 3 laps at tempo pace at the rail between) x 3 with 20 minutes rest between in a MAMOTH gear, we were more than happy to be out on the road bikes this morning paralleling the Pacific Ocean. Up and up we climbed, along Palos Verde Boulevard with Liz, Mary, Tela and myself. The views were great (despite noticing the smog hanging off the coast line that was a dark snot color) - even Catalina island was in view. Little did we know we'd be doing some character building miles - with tears of struggle, anguish and eventual triumph.

We cruised up a massive hill with t-pain driving the train, downshifting toward the top and sending my heart rate into the red zone. A quick stop at the top, and down we quickly descended through a canopy of trees and light traffic and light rain splattering the roadway. Our next left hand turn, half way down the hill provided the highlight/lowlight of the ride.

We noticed a bright neon green sign titled "Walking School Bus" and as Tela went to point it out in a what the? she didn't realize Liz was next to her and swerved, over corrected and went down in the lane of traffic, just as a red truck almost struck her. Too close of a call for comfort, we pulled over and sat down in a little pow wow. Some woman in a Lexus sedan and sweater dress with caked on makeup stopped to make sure we were okay. She came over to Tela asked if she could say a little prayer and then proceeded to bless her in this time of crisis. Mary, Liz and I stood around completely baffeled by the series of events we just witnessed. Luckily I had enough sense to whip out the camera and get the Jesus lady on film. Close call! And glad we all walked easily away from that one. It's not every day you can say you've been blessed and prayed about.

Now we rest, chilling in our hotel getting for some more butt kicking efforts tomorrow. My legs are still throbbing but better to throb now then in competition, right?

A little clarification

So since most of the world doesn't understand the nuances of track cycling lingo, here's a basic description of what I did yesterday on the boards. (aka track. I call them boards because the track is composed of Siberan White Tiger wood. All 250m with 47 degree banking.)

We shipped our track bikes down earlier (they're the kind without brakes) and flew down with our road bikes on the airplane. Checking in at the airport is kind of a pain if you're flying with bikes because they are put in an oversized box and you can bet you'll be charged any where from $50-175 extra each way for such a luxury. (Shipping them costs anywhere from $35 to $175 depending on who you use to ship, declared value, how they measure the box, etc.) Oh and you can count on TSA searching your bike box for explosives and such due to the metal or carbon tubing. You can only hope they put the box back in it's original condition so things don't shift around - but that's the risk you take.

Anyway - we rode to the gym from our hotel yesterday morning to meet Adam at 8:30 for bike assemblege and getting things set up for the day's workout. Everything arrived in good shape - with the exception of Tela's box. Her wheel hubs were sticking out of the box. But after riding on it she discovered it was all good.

On tap for today's workout was a warmup with the Canadian National team (who has been in town since January prepping for the upcoming March world cup). 50 laps with a steady increase in tempo in a smaller gear. Since you only have one gear option, the warmup is used in a smaller gear (50x16, which is roughly an 84") to open up the legs and get your aerobic and central nervous system ready for the specialized efforts later. Since most of the work on the track is done with near 100% capacity, a good warm up is essential to prevent injury.

After those 50 laps, you go back into the infield and change your gears into what ever is prescribed next on your schedule. Tela's gears are usually a lot smaller than mine since she's a sprinter - she's more reliant on fast twitch muscle fiber to generate a high rpm. You need to be able to get up to speed quickly and then hold it for her efforts. Since I'm more of an endurance racer, I have larger gears to generate the most power over a longer period.

Anyway, my goal for this session is to work on my standing starts for pacing in the pursuit. Basically I'm going from a stopped position, held up by a hydraulic starting gate that releases when the clock counts down from 10 seconds to 0. Jump the gate by going to early and you can scrub a good 2 seconds off of your time. Go too late and you have zero momentum to start. It's all about finesse.

Then the effort itself has to be within your ability - especially if you're doing more than one lap. Since the pursuit is 3000m (or 12 laps on this track), pacing is everything. At nationals in October I went out of the gate HOT - too hot. My start was equivalent to Sarah Hammer's 3:30 pace. And guess what? I'm not Sarah Hammer. Unfortunately at this time I can't hold that pace. Such a strong start builds up lactic acid in the legs quickly and you start slowing down. So although I had started with a blistering pace, I physically couldn't hold it. To deal with this lack of fitness, I'm starting my laps slower so I can finish stronger in the end, verses the other way around.

I had 2 sets of 3 standing start one laps in a 94" gear (53x15). Hopefully that makes a little more sense now. My goal? Do a 24.7 second starting lap. Nothing faster. But for some reason when that gate releases and I go, I can't dial it back. I'm putting in a 22.4 second starting lap. I have to tone it down or else I will detonate later in the effort. After several attempts to do so - the only thing that happened was my time kept getting faster. So I have to work on slowing down.

The good news though? I have it within me to do that kind of start. Now it's just a matter of building that fitness to hold it. That's why those stinking hill repeats up Hollywood hill in the wee hours of the morning and despite the rain are so important. The ability to hold high wattage (power) is crucial to the pursuit.

Either you're more confused than ever or that helps a little bit. Bottom line? I have to slow down to go faster. :)

And today's workout, just to confuse you, is a sprinter workout. Good times! Wish me luck as I try to spin my own legs off!

There are signs on the road.

And it is up to you to heed them or not. They are recommended speeds, warnings of upcoming curves and steep descents. Bumps, children, school zones and deer crossings. All things that could potentially slow you down or collide with you. Do you slow down? Do you pay attention or do you sail through them without thought or worry about what could happen?

The signs serve as a perfect analogy for life. Though instead of being encased in a metal box of a car, I prefer my bicycle. Even still though, those warnings are still warranted and you can bet I pay careful attention when they are passed.

You're probably going to be hearing a lot more from me on this blog in the coming weeks. Call it a premonition of sorts. Writing is such an amazing outlet for me - always there no matter what's going on in my life. I can easily pick myself back up by letting it out in words and paragraphs; it provides a therapy of sort. It's an old friend I can always check in with that doesn't judge and is always there.

I've decided that there should be a new sign - one that warns people of upcoming puke. Yep, you read that right. Puke. And gross as that sounds - I convinced myself that I want to push myself harder than ever. I want to find out my true limits. And once I've reached them, finally, I'll have worked so hard that my body revolts. I know, it sounds silly. Who would rightfully put their body through such a thing? But I want to push pass the mental limitations, the warning signs that your brain sends to your body to shut down before you complete your goal. As crazy as it sounds - I want to get there. I want to be able to push myself to new levels. And I figure puking is a good way to start.

This next week should provide the perfect opportunity. I'll let you know how it goes.

(And as I mentioned this to Ai and Anna last night in our pondering of why we don't push ourselves that much anymore - answers of I'm too lazy, I did it once when I was younger and I hate the taste, I'll do anything NOT to puke. And my response? It's because we'd have to clean it up now ourselves, isn't it?)

...breaking news.....

This just in -

Tela Crane, Mary McMeen and Jennifer Triplett are taking the concrete jungle and land of a million highways by storm starting Sunday. For the next week the trio will descend upon Los Angeles leaving no road unturned. Their plan? An assault on the banked track in Carson, California (not to be confused with its neighboring city Compton).

It's time. Time to test the winter mileage and fitness gained. Time to test their mental strength in sprints, pursuits and going in circles ridiculously fast.

Three girls, six bikes and no car. Should make for an exciting week.

Studette

(Doug Mills of NY Times)

Lindsey Vonn is my hero. Watching her in the start house for the woman's downhill Olympic event, visibly shaking from the pressure and emotions filling her want, desire and need to win - was nerve racking. Watching as she flew down the hill, recovering from slight deviations from the perfect line, catching major air on the final jump and practically landing on one leg to save her injured shin, I couldn't help but hold my breath.

And then the sheer amazement and joy when she learns that she did in fact win gold. At first she appears in shock letting out small cries, the reality of the accomplishment yet to soak in. Yet as the cameras continue to follow her throughout the interviews - her emotions come to surface. The tearful happiness of overwhelming joy - and then falling into the safety net of her supportive and loving husband. I couldn't help but cry with her. Knowing how much time and energy and sacrifice she has done to get there. And to have the planets align?

If you didn't catch it last night - youtube will probably have it up and running soon. Lindsey earned every ounce of gold in that medal through and through. Congrats champ!

Last night I dreamed about rock climbing. I can't remember who my female companion was - but we decided to down climb a long section of rock to find our way back to the car. The down climbing was easy at first - with big chunks of gneiss rock and huge jugs to hold onto. It was similar rock to the down climb in the N. Cascades Liberty Bell group. But as we got to the crux of a massive over hanging, no feature section I froze. Stricken by panic of potentially falling to my demise I couldn't move down. Instead I decided to climb back up and find another route. And that's when the cat I'm sitting jumped on my face. Stinking cat!

Up early this morning for a drizzle ride to Hollywood hill times four. Cold wet fun!

Stoke Factor = TEN

As an athlete, we often push our bodies to the max. A steady amount of pain is welcomed - in the legs, lungs and sometimes heart. For me, each and every ride serves a purpose and goal - to get stronger and faster. And even though sometimes I fail, at least I know I gave something everything I had before that failure.

Cycling is an endurance sport in more ways than one. Physically there are long grueling hours put in on the saddle, reliant on pieces of man made machinery and reliant on the ultimate engine, but sometimes just as faulty, the body. Countless hours are spent training and fueling, taking time for recovery and creating a life balance so that each time I pull on my spandex, each time I clip into my pedals - I know why I'm doing it. It's a long road toward my ultimate goal - world cup competition in track - but I choose to do this. I am fortunate that the planets have aligned and I can spend the majority of my waking hours cycling. And for that I am forever thankful.

Mentally cycling is an endurance game as well. Day in day out, hours devoted to 90+ revolutions per minute - without the proper mental capacity you could easily fail on lack of motivation alone. It is often too easy to make excuses: it's raining outside, my legs hurt, my saddle gives me discomfort, I don't feel like it. But some how those things are quickly forgotten. A rest day comes and though I'm thankful for the time off the bike, I can't wait to get back to it to express 100% of my ability. I still feel the excitement as I did the first year I started racing. The giddiness of feeling the endorphin rush, the wind in my hair, the hum of my rear hub.

Even when the going gets tough - and today it did - I still find myself in love with this sport. It pushes me to the limit on hills and when I hit that limit I'm reminded of being a mere mortal. A mortal who is gravity challenged. I smile to myself because my pursuit isn't after hills, though mastery of everything I do is deep seeded within me. I smile because I know come track season I'm going to be able to push harder and faster than last year. I look at the top of the hill with one focus in mind - the finish line or pull in team pursuit, or lapping attempt in a points race.

Sometimes it's important to restate why you do what you do. What gets you stoked? Why do you do what you do?

Ode to Fenders

I missed you today, despite your finicky rubbing and home made duct tape buddy flap. I should have known to strap you on and deal with the constant reminder of your presence - for the rain is inevitable in Seattle.

I but a fool - thinking I would be sans rain on a training ride in February. Instead I was reminded of your virtues and sheer luxurious demeanor.

I got dumped on. Hard.

And it wasn't the grit that was shooting up my back like a rooster tail on a jet ski that did it. I wasn't yearning for the music to my ears of your whining noise, oh no. But as soon as it started raining so hard the pavement was soaked, I started to wonder why I deprived myself of such simple pleasures?

Oh fender. Today you were missed. Like a long lost lover on Valentines day. Like the garlic in my mashed potatoes. Like, like - the rear fender on my bike - nothing compares.

Warming concoctions were made to subsist without you. Their potent potions are so harsh that only rubbing alcohol can adequately remove it. More gear needed to replace such a simple item. Who decided that racing without fenders is cool anyways?

Don't worry fender - I will be back for you. And you can rub all you want before I throw you in the bushes.

Up and at 'em

I wake up early to feed Makiah and answer my ringing phone. It's 6 am and Sharon is calling to let me know she didn't sleep all night and doesn't think it would be a good idea to do hill intervals as a result.

Sleepily I tell her no problem. You can come next time.

I lift the dog food container down from on top of the fridge and give Makiah a 1/4 cup serving. She quickly gobbles it up as I put the kettle on and grind some coffee.

It's cold in my house. 58 degrees. I turn the heat up as I go put on some lycra as water comes to a boil. A quick glance outside reveals some fog but no rain. I put on wool socks, thermal tights and a long sleeve base layer. Makiah comes into my bedroom to let me know she's done chowing and is ready to go outside to do some business.

My reflection in the mirror shows puffy eyes from last night's late Soba noodle dinner and the scale shows some nice water retention. Great - an extra 5 pounds to lug up that hill this morning. I thought weight training was this afternoon?

After a quick bite to eat and gulping my morning java, I make some bottles with my favorite concoction - Hammer's perpetuem. I've been on a steady diet of drinking it every time I ride and am thankful for its extra calories every time. I give the bottles a quick thorough shake and head out the door.

I wish I lived closer to longer hills. So that my planned ride could start and finish from my house as it's much easier to come home and immediately strip off my spandex and hit the showers to warm up. But today requires 10 minute hills so I start up my diesel engine and drive north to Log Boom.

It's 7 am and the park gates are still locked. I park outside and quickly dress. The sun has come up just enough so I decide to venture without my front light and switch my blinky on. I can't tell if it's the cold air that makes my face ache or the sodium injected noodles from the night before.

The fog made the temps dip a little lower than usual. My normal warm up seems to take a little longer as my quads remind me that they were worked after this past weekend's thrashing. But after 30 minutes that sensation goes away as I quickly approach my first interval up Hollywood.

The first couple of inclines get my heart rate up to LT, and I push myself on the flatter sections by switching to harder gears to keep the watts up. A couple of road workers make a joke or two as I whiz by the first time and before I know it 10 minutes have passed and I'm flipping it near the top of the hill to bomb down and do it again. The descent is exactly 5 minutes so at the bottom I quickly start my next punishing interval.

As the pain settles into my legs, I keep telling myself in mantra like fashion, that it will go away. Just keep pushing. You're alive. Your legs are telling you to stop but you're stronger than that. Keep pushing. You're almost to the next section. Shift. Shift. Push. Push. Look up at the crest of the hill. Keep your breathing going. Inhale, exhale. Next hard section. One mailbox at a time. Focus. Push. It will go away... this is just temporary. Push! Done.

Repeat.

And on the third and final one, I passed all the little kids and their parents waiting for the school bus. It must have looked funny - seeing my pain face and hard breathing at such an early morning surrounded by fog. But I don't care. What I care about is enjoying the fast fun descent that someone recently broke their collarbone on during the last Rocket ride. I weave my way through the back roads of Woodinville and Maltby. The slightest inclines make my legs scream double time in protest - a confirmation that my morning workout was beneficial.

After I got home, I ate some split pea soup I slow cooked overnight and took a long hot shower. My digits were screaming in protest and I emptied the water tank just soaking in the warmth.

And now I sit, looking slightly forward to my weight training workout this afternoon. These double day training sessions are hard but I know that I will reap the benefits in a short time to come. The idea is to make the training harder than the racing...

Thinking of you Bubba.

Now that I think about what happened to me on the ride Saturday, I'm pretty sure what happened was the lack of eating proper foods after my two workouts the previous training day that did it. In the morning I had LT interval sessions and then a 4 hour recovery period (working) and back into the gym. After the initial workout I should have had a meal higher in the carb content and another higher carb meal after weight training. I did drink a recovery drink after both sessions - but timing the right meal within the magic hour of glycogen replacement is critical for long term endurance training.

Call me crazy but this shit is super fascinating.

And I think the "bonk" that I felt isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's my body reacting to after using up my glycogen levels and dipping into body fat reserves. Which is a good thing - but everybody handles this shift differently. I've found I have a low tolerance to this change - and mentally need to focus on pushing through the lows. This might be a crazy theory - but some people like the Kristin Armstrongs and cycling goddesses who seem like they are from out of this world - have an amazing natural ability to do this without having to focus on it. The rest of us struggle and, if we're lucky, adapt to this change.

bonkage

After about a month of carefully watching and monitoring what I take in for training and eat on the bike - yesterday I bonked. I'm pretty sure it was from a lack of carbohydrate the night before that did it... green salad with protein and no real carbs to speak of is not a good pre-race/train meal. After our first longer climb on the ride, my muscles started screaming in protest since they were eating themselves. And no amount of perpeteum or bars can reverse that damage once it's been inflicted. It's good to have reminders of why you're sticking to a plan and what will happen when you don't...

"If you time your nutrient intake well, you will store less fat in your fat cells, store more protein and carbohydrate in your muscle cells, and use more calories to supply immediate energy needs than you would if you ate precisely the same nutrients but timed their intake poorly." -Matt Fitzgerald.

And for those trying to cut weight but are doing it at the expense of your performance - this one's for you....

"On the other hand, when you habitually consume too little at certain times of the day, your metabolism will slow so that more of the calories you consume at other times are stored as body fat, and your body will break down muscle tissue to make up for the deficit of food energy."

Bottom line - it's all about timing.

It's a sign of the times, don't you think? When only 5 out of 40 blog subscriptions that I follow update on maybe a weekly basis. Myself included. I used to write a lot more - but then I lose interest or can't quite find the time to jot a few thoughts down. I've probably lost some readers along the way - but to be honest this blog was more for me than for them. At one point I did create a separate blog that was aimed at getting my gripes out - about the injustices in my silly little world. The drama - the situations I encountered that were baffling. But I couldn't post them here- because I do know some people read this and that would be just slanderous. And mean.

But back to the original point. Why don't people jot down a few words? What's your day really like? What makes you happy? 50 years from now when you look back at your entries - chances are a blog will give you more context then random sentence thrown out into space.

Maybe it's the social media revolution that has taken the world by storm? They'd rather tweet and proclaim a few sentences to the tweeting community. What is it about tweeting that makes it more attractive to follow than complete sentences? Is its celebrity appeal? Like you have a small glimpse into my world but not really kind of thing? I think it's like spying on someone. But yet they are putting it out there for the world to observe and judge. Kind of fascinating, don't you think?

Is it ultimately destroying writing? That's a thought.

Helpful struggles...

It's hard to describe the sensation that fills your legs after a solid 3 hour training ride, with a couple of big gear efforts thrown in the mix and followed by a nutritious pecan crusted salmon, Moroccan carrot salad and quinoa. Oh, and a beer. But it is a really really really good feeling and reward for punishing myself in the saddle today. For those unfamiliar - it's like a warm throb as the muscles start to relax and take what nutrients they want from the meal I just ate.

And despite earlier predictions, today's ride was completed without any rain. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

I needed that. Especially after last nights restless night of sleep from a really hard workout on Jennie's indoor pain machine. She's got some whirlie bird thing that doubles as a trainer but keep track of your wattage. Those LT efforts are done without any excuses now. "You're in the last few kilos of a race Jen. Just pedal away from them, pedal away." I think that proved to Tela and Jennie what my pain face really looks like. 10 minutes of straight up nausea.

And the discovery today that my 5 year old FSA carbon cranks are toast. They cracked where the pedal threads into the crank and will definitely break off any time now. I was about to give up when the sun came out... so on my old Kona Kona I went - out I-90 toward Bellevue, a loop toward Billy's house (Medina) and around the north end. To top it off? Some mountain bike commuter that was sitting pretty much straight upright was more than willing to give me a draft those last 6 miles toward the University. What a stud with his blue jacket flapping away in the breeze and slicks on his steed. You gotta love the Burke. :)

My kitchen smells like toasting granola right now - I can't wait for it to come out of the oven...

Happy Birthday to George and Ladybug and Katy! Three birthdays right in a row... and Tom's earlier last week. Let the birthday season begin!

My routine has been switched up a little thanks to a new block of training in the last few weeks before the mandatory intensity of racing sets in. I'm thankful for the break - now waking up to ride instead of heading to the gym. Road riding has taken my undivided attention and I thank the heavens and stars for supplying the best January of winter weather we've ever had on record. Those long hard miles in the saddle are that much sweeter without the constant drizzle and soaked digits - character building miles for sure - but not missed in the least.

I'm dialing in my nutrition - creating a happy balance between what my body needs and what it craves. I'm sticking to my game plan of timing my food just right, having the right snacks on hand and believe it or not - spending less time doing food prep now. How did that happen? But as my waist line shrinks, just slightly, and my lean muscle mass becomes leaner, I know that it's working.

Rest in peace Shannon. We will miss you cousin.

Happiness is coming back to the car after pounding out the miles before 10am with multiple lactic threshold efforts and chowing down on some Muscle Gruel oatmeal with hand picked blueberries from summer and Recoverite to wash it down with. Who would have thought that such simple pleasures could make me so incredibly happy?

Getting ready

Tomorrow morning at about the time you wake up, I'll be out doing hill repeats up Hollywood hill, feeling the heart pound in my chest and pump my legs to climb up that mother of a hill three times. Fun times!

Flip flop

A few weeks ago I picked up a copy of Precision Nutrition to dial in my food intake for maximum performance on and off the bike. With the "plan" comes a bunch of recipes for breakfast, lunch and dinner- oh and snacks too.

I have been following their guidelines for a little while and am so far pleased with the results. Mainly my fridge is just stoked full of whole some goodness foods - easy to prepare (for the most part) and quick to grab and fill yourself with delicious food at a moments hungry notice.

In the description of the recipes is a note stating how easy, moderate or hard they are. And I fancy myself somewhat of a good cook - able to try new things and am not afraid of any task. But for some reason, those "easy" recipes have been the biggest kitchen challenge I have ever encountered!

Example A - Protein powder snack bars. The label read "Peanut Butter Banana Protein Bar". Surely it can't be that hard? Listed in the ingredients is 8 scoops of vanilla protein whey powder. No problem! They sell that hippie shit at PCC just down the street from my house - in BULK! I come back home after picking up some essentials (which no longer contains any processed, white bread, crackers, heavily processed dairy items, etc) and get to it.

But there's one problem. No where in the book does it say how much a "scoop" is. Luckily PN has a website with all of that information in it. I look up how many grams are in a scoop and see 1 scoop/20g. I measure out 160 grams of protein. The protein pile resembles Mt. Fuji. I think to myself, gee, that looks like too much. But what do I know? I've never cooked with protein powder before. Hmmmm... interesting as I mixed the rest of the ingredients together it seems a little dry.... maybe I messed up my scoop per gram? Um, yeah. By 10 times! It was supposed to be 10 scoops per 20 grams. Nothing like a good additive to oatmeal.

Example 2 - the omelet flop. Ah, there's nothing like a good breakfast. Especially with smoked turkey, onions, spinach and bell peppers. But as I go to flip the eggs, I ended up flipping half of it on the FLOOR! As I pick it up I'm cursing the PN "easy" recipes and laughing at myself as I chew on some extra protein sauteed in my egg whites. Makiah was stoked about cleaning the floor, let me tell you.

Great way to start the morning - but it's sunny out so who cares?

Something's in the air....

Ah, a quiet Monday morning at my house. The sun is actually making an appearance by poking its head over the Cascades and doing its best to dry out what was one of the wetter weeks. Thank goodness my sump pump finally stopped running. Its cycle of turning on and then thumping off every 5 minutes was becoming far to common of a back ground noise. But hey, at least I know it's working!

This morning's ritual of checking my resting heart rate showed why I do it - it was a full 8 beats higher than normal. Turns out Jennie knows a thing or two about scheduling a rest day immediately after a hard block of training to a "T". :) And today's rest day should be all I need to re-set me for another solid week of training. The intensity and mileage keeps creeping up - as we slowly creep into the upcoming season. After a ton of road riding, yesterday's muddy mountain bike ride at St. Edwards park was a much welcomed shift. The hooping and hollering cured any negative thoughts and I rediscovered my LT. Thank goodness because it is much higher than what I thought it was. Now the trick is to get up to it during my intervals and keeping it there for 15 minutes! Can you say suffer fest?

On a side note - but equally related to cycling since everything in your life contributes to its balance - seems like everyone I talked to this past weekend about having a tough time both on and off the bike resonate with a, "ME TOO!" What's up with that? Lack of Vitamin D? Too much rain to the brain? Well here's to a new week of making the most of it...

Character Building

Remember how in my last post I bragged about not having to do intervals or be on my bike on Monday? Well it rained just as hard, if not harder, last night during my LT efforts and didn't let up my entire 3.5 hours on the bike. That's some solid character building, I tell you what!

Thankfully on my way out to my hill repeats, not far from Counterbalance, I discovered a puncture in the sidewall of my rear tire. I quickly flipped it and headed back to the shop where I had a guy change my dirty, nasty tire and make sure I was good to go on my adventure. He replaced it with such enthusiasm that I dedicated my first interval to him. He laughed as I exited the store through the sliding glass doors when we both noticed the down pour and sincerely said, good luck [nut case].

I can think of only a handful of occasions, and luckily this is the first one this year, where the water is coming down so hard that the bike lanes look like swelled river streams. Everything gets wet. Everything. And it's about 50 degrees out. And dark. But does that keep me indoors glued to the trainer for 2.5 hours? Heck no! I'd rather have brain surgery. My saving grace? Diving gloves, wool socks, shower pass jacket, ishuffle, bomber booties, Continental 4-Season Grand Prix, and Stella - my new favorite light.

I will say this though - when your gloves get that wet, they act like suction cups when you try to take them off to munch on a Hammer bar. Leave them off for too long and your hands will freeze, but slip them back on while you cram 8 bites into your mouth all at once and you'll be good to go.

I also noticed that I'm getting more fearless on descents. Not sure if that's attributed to not being able to see anything thanks to the pelting rain or the fact that it's pitch black out - but I can fly down hills without any tension in my upper body. And if you put your light on blink and cruise down a street with reflective bumps it serves as a strobe light... all you need is to add some disco music and you'll be having a great time!

Later as I sat on the couch after stripping my wet clothing off, jumping in the shower, eating a meal big enough for an army and trying to read up on nutrition, I couldn't help but let my eyes drift to sleep. Perhaps that ride took more out of me than I thought!

Pineapple Express

Those in the NW know what that means - rain. The type of rain that leaves you drenched in no time. It seeps into everything you do - drains over fill, sump pumps start churning, human swallowing puddles form, land slides. It's as though we're being punished for having a beautiful dry weekend. But the working world is thankful for the good weather during those few days off - and welcome the steady drizzle on Monday, often the craziest day of the week.

Monday's are rest days for me. It gives me some time to play catch up - clean my filthy bikes, get some wholesome food back in my fridge, wax my skis, etc. And of course relax. So rain all you want gray sky. But please clear up for tomorrow for I have intervals to complete that are hard enough without adverse weather. :)

And props to the brave souls who are riding in this drippy weather. I'll be joining your ranks tomorrow.

Mmmm.... blueberries!

I needed a good dose of summer's bounty after today's soggy ride. What started off as a light drizzle turned into a monsoon by the time I met my half way point and headed home. Although wet, I was warm. Though tomorrow is going to be twice as long and twice as wet. It left me wondering, can I put embrocation on my feet?

Mmmmm... back to blueberries. The best fruit on the planet. And something I can eat MASSIVE quantities of, especially when they're fresh. Good thing they're frozen otherwise they'd be gone!

Also on tap for tonight - prepping for tomorrow. I know, exciting Friday night. But I have big goals to meet and high motivation to get there. Do I a) clean my bike, b)eat more blueberries, c) read through my cookbooks and plan some meals for next week, d) eat more blueberries, e)watch world cup skate skiing on the tele while eating more blueberries? Looks like blueberries win. MMMmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!

Happy New Year!

Wow - 2010.

10 years ago I was in Bellingham graduating from Western. 2000
9 years ago I married Ryan and he graduated from WWU. 2001
8 years ago we quit our jobs and traveled through Europe and moved to Seattle. 2002
7 years ago I worked in Bellevue and sold flooring on the Internet. 2003
6 years ago I started commuting to work by bike and doing STP. Coleman was born! 2004
5 years ago I quit my job and started riding full time and pursued my dreams. 2005
4 years ago I rode my bike well over 10,000 miles in a year. 2006
3 years ago we bought a cabin in Mazama. Laurel was born! 2007
2 years ago my world came to an abrupt halt when Ryan died. 2008
1 year ago I rebuilt my shattered life and cried a lot. 2009

My goodness it does seem that life speeds up as you get older. The ups, the downs, the ins and outs. Life just keeps on going.

And just a quick little reminder of the good times - this photo was taken in Mazama that first winter we had the cabin. I think of Ryan every time I skate Jack's loop out to proposal point (so named from Laura and Dale) and stop to stare at Goat Wall.

Time loops

It's amazing how songs can transport you through time and space. They trigger a memory or a feeling - making you pause in your busy life and travel to a distant time. Listening to Jose Gonzalez reminds me of going to Banya 5 last year and treating myself to a massage. The woman who massaged me was playing this album and I got lost in space and time for an hour. I remember thinking how good it felt - the simple act of human touch - and how much Ryan and I used to simply hold one another.

Then it just as quickly transports me to the disbelief that he's gone. Some how I've been living in an altered parallel life and that he's really still here. But those irrational thoughts have been revisited hundreds of times and in a way I've gotten used to them. Sometimes I let the fantasy play around in my head, sometimes I let it go right back out that revolving door. And sometimes I don't have a choice.

Funny how some conversations, however brief, leave a lasting impression on you. On Friday night I saw a friend at a party on her way to the airport. She stopped by to give everyone well wishes and caught me a little off guard by asking, "you doing okay during the holidays?" Up until that point I thought I was. But when I stop the holiday whirl and constant motion the emptiness quickly creeps in.

Everything happens for a reason. Or at least that's what I tell myself. Having a heavy training week leading up to the holidays and then having some down time the week of was planned. And in more ways than one. Right now I need the mental and physical break to prepare myself for the weeks ahead. Not to mention this week. Every ounce of my energy will go toward putting myself in that happy spot. The one that transcends time and allows me to create new memories when listening to music.

"A highly trained aerobic athlete can get away with doing absolutely nothing for nine to 12 days before there will be an appreciable loss in fitness. However, it can take between eight and 12 weeks to regain fitness lost after taking four weeks off. That means if you don't exercise for the month of October, sometime in January you could be as fit as you were at the end of September. It is difficult to make significant strength and power gains from year to year if you spend three months losing and regaining fitness."

- Chris Carmichael, On the Road: Building the Foundation of Success.

Random thoughts

That was silly of me. I showed up to work today with no lunch. And now I'm torturing myself by looking at food blog after food blog. I could eat the stale organic trek mix sitting on my desk or I could continue to starve will dreaming up meals for when I get home. Just took a bite and am reminded again of why it's stale. BLAH!

Do I open the chocolate orange I bought for a coworker? Nah. That would make those hard earned winter miles a waste. And I'd either give it to her with a couple of slices missing or have to buy another one.

Just realized 2010 will mark 6 years of blogging! Six years! What a trip.

Yesterday whilst riding through the strongest head wind I've encountered in a long time and rain that was pelting my face with a vengeance, I once again realized that you have to absolutely love this nomadic sport in order to get any where with it. You have to be open to the hours of grueling repetitive motion with inclement weather and do so without remorse or a grudge.

For if you think about it, there is no good reason to be on your bike past dusk in the dark winter months. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

What keeps me lifting my leg over the saddle time and time again? The possibility of wins 6 months from now. Ride on nomadic solider, ride on.

As 2009 comes to a close, I can't help but think back to this time last year and marvel at how far I've come. Last year nearly broke me. The dark months were really dark and grief penetrated everything. It left me without the desire to ride or race, broke me down into less than half of what I was. But I think part of the healing process is going down into the dark depths of your soul, to depths that are not normal and consuming in order to feel what it's like to be normal again.

I think back on this year and remember some difficult times - times when I couldn't move or get out of bed, immobilized by loss of my partner, identity and part of my soul. To go to such depths make you realize how fortunate you are when things are normal and going according to plan. They paint the bigger picture in such clarity that I couldn't help but scoff at people sweating the small things in life. But we need those small things when things are going according to plan - to remind us that life is short and unpredictable.

This winter, which won't be officially winter until the 21st, I've been attacking my training with the passion I once felt. Pushing through the dark, cold, wet miles with goals in mind and keeping my focus. Grief no longer penetrates my every thought or move, but allows me to keep it at bay and acknowledge on my terms.

Last New Year's I felt like I HAD to get certain things done. Had to travel, visit the places to make me feel a little better. Spend less time at home with the constant reminders of what was missing. And the only thing that really helped was time itself. Time to repair my mind and soul.

Slowly I started to feel like myself again. Two steps forward, one step back. And in this slow fashion, when I look back at the past year I realize I climbed a mountain. An impossible mountain with lots of unforeseen challenges and false summits. I am thankful for this journey and the lessons it has taught me and continues to. But dammit, I'm STOKED for a new year, let alone a new decade.

Holy cow. Check this out!

(Oh cow? Didn't realize the typo until just now. Ha ha!)

Whistling in Winter

Ah, winter's back. Not that east coast cold ass ice so you have to ride your trainer inside bull shit. Instead we get the lovely incessant 38-42 degree drizzle that dampens your layers and sinks into your bones. But you can ride in it! And I'll take that misery any day over putting hours upon hours on the trainer. (I say that now at the beginning of a 16 hour road week...)

So with this week's training on tap - I cooked some food during my rest day to stock up for when I come home ravishing and ready to shovel some calories into my gullet. It's much easier to grab some roasted veggies out of the fridge and reheat them or throw in a little diced turkey and make a wrap. Instant gratification.

Time put in now in the cold months is money in the bank for later. It's important to make things as easy as possible to jump on the bike. Be that preparing food in advance, doing those neglected maintenance items on your off day when you don't want to think about the bike, etc - it'll pay off. Consider it a job - one that you're lucky enough to be passionate about and what once seemed a tedious task will give you freedom on the roads and in your heart.

And whistling always helps.

If anyone wants to ride this week - I'd love company!

After experiencing screaming barfies in my feet from last night's two hour jaunt in arctic temps, I'm more than looking forward to heading down to Bend and checking out Bachelor's cross country scene. Two hours of skating a day will keep that aerobic engine purring like a kitchen and surely my tootsies will stay warm!

And I'm so excited to be skating for the first time this season! Tela is going to join me between cheering on our friends at cross Nationals...

Hope you're staying warm!

Death by trainer

Oh the hours logged in one solid position on the bike, stationary in front of the boob tube watching hours upon hours of winter world cup events.... hopefully someone will check on me before I keel over from sheer boredom.

But there's hope! Tomorrow I head to Bend to watch cyclo cross Nationals and I'm bringing my skate skis to get some skiing in between cheers. Should be a good time!

Had a crazy dream last night that I had to escape a house before someone was coming to get me - and had to grab things that I absolutely couldn't leave behind. I remember thinking that I needed to make sure to grab my iron and wax for skis for my life depended on it. What about those old family photos?

And on another completely different note - I had HSP do a bike simulation for a new position on a Blue bike to make sure it fits before I pull the trigger and treat myself. My position is so different and BALANCED - it should make for a great change for the new decade....

I'm selling off a ton of bikes - anyone interested in 54cm? They'll be priced to move!

Clamming, Crabbing, Christmas Trees, Bike Rides, Clam smoke and more!

My friend Andrew has been clamming for quite some time. He's a connoisseur of all things seafood and is always up for fishing, clamming, crabbing, etc. However for the past decade plus since I've known him, pinning down a time and location to go clamming has been pretty much impossible. It's mainly due to the fact that state regulators open up specific areas for clamming only a handful of days at a time throughout the year. And you also have to time it with the low tides, busy city schedules, etc. We finally pinpointed a time - this past Friday night.

At the last minute I was able to take my six year old nephew Coleman with us too. We showed up in Tacoma to carpool with Andrew down to the Westport area on the coast. He brought some hip waders for Chris and I to wear since clamming is a dirty, sandy, wet excursion. Coleman got some last minute warm boots and gloves and thankfully brought his ski coat. The temperature on a reader board in Aberdeen boasted 29 degrees!

We drove for about 2.5 hours through the dark, cold night. About 3 miles south of Westport, we took a right and headed toward the beach. Much to our surprise, there were hundreds of lights along the tide flats. We parked near a house that had its lights on so we could find out car later and then started putting the gear on. We also fired up some coleman lanterns to begin the hunt. Armed with a clam gun and shovel plus a big 5 gallon bucket, off we went toward the ocean.

Thankfully we didn't have to go far. We were able to immediately spot some depressions in the sand and with the careful instruction of Andrew the digging began! We were hooping and hollering and making a big commotion as we brought in clam after razor clam. The clams were so plentiful that we limited out at 60 in about an hour!

Smelling the clear air, watching the hundreds of other lanterns dance along the tide flats to the slow rising moon and listening to the shore break not far from where we harvested the clams made for great memories. And something I'm sure Coleman won't forget for a long, long time. He slept the entire car ride back to Tacoma.

But the adventure wasn't over yet. The next morning we woke up, made some pancakes and sausage for breakfast, hoped in Chris's boat and dropped crab pots. It was so beautiful being on water in the early morning as the fog was evaporating into a clear blue sky. Birds diving for fish and sea lions poking their heads out of the water while hunting for salmon. We even saw a few fly fisherman on the shores of the Narrows on our way to Wolochett Bay. Coleman was a little freaked out at first to be in such a small boat with lots of crab gear. But he got used to hanging out and snuggling up to Makiah and I ducked his head inside his oversize life vest and trying to stay as warm as possible. After I we got back to Chris's house we quickly hiked the hill, got in the car and dropped him off at my mom's to go to his next adventure.



I jumped on my bike as quickly as possible to get my 3.5 hour ride in before sunset and hopefully avoid any icy conditions. I jammed down the Duamish Trail toward Tukwila and hit some ice on the Interurban trail but still kept it upright! Made to Tacoma in record time on the bike and had enough time to stop for some well earned chocolate milk. We then cleaned 15 clams and make both New England and Manhattan chowder that was amazing! I was pretty pooped by the end of the night.

Sunday brought more fun as Chris and I connected with Jennie, Tela and Mary for our weekly mountain bike ride at St. Edwards. I decided to drink a double cappuccino and was FLYING! We had so much fun thanks to a slightly later start and dry conditions. I swear, mountain biking reminds me so much of skiing. Half the time I'm on the verge of being out of control, but then I'm able to stick things since I have maybe at times a little too much confidence. It makes me giggle like a little kid!

And to cap the weekend off - I got to help Shelley, Lincoln and their two little girls Olivia and Alice decorate their Christmas Tree. It's becoming an annual tradition for sure. Oh and one more adventure - we headed over to Ben and Danielle's to smoke 30 of the clams and hang out with them the rest of the evening. Whew, what a weekend!

Go go gadget arms!

Well I finally did it. I finally pushed the envelope and stretched the boundaries. In retrospect I should have known this day was coming. But instead it has me slouching into my office chair, with little to no movement. I have to will myself to move every 20 minutes or so because my body is actually exhausted.

Perfect.

What is it that I did? Simple. I changed my weight training routine today. After 5 weeks of the same motions, I switched it up. I hefted heavy weights overhead. I did squats with more weight than before and I made my neck muscles flare like the Incredible Hulk.

And now? Well now I'm paying for it. Hold on, must move.

Much better. Don't get me wrong. The previous routine was good too. But after 5 weeks, my body had completely adapted to its moves. My core strengthened, legs toned and focus sharpened with each movement. My butt gained some serious strength and my chest press was starting to give me some serious pecks and arm definition.

However, today was a big reminder that you need to switch up your routine every so often. For doing the same movements, time and time again will only strengthen your strengths and leave your weaknesses withering. And what is so sore this time? Well after only 4 hours of recovery, I can't really lift my arms. I mean I can. But it takes considerable effort and concentration to levitate them from my keyboard.

Like I said, I should have known this day was coming. There were warning signs - practically sirens for that matter. Even last night as I briefly spoke with Jennie about the new program and how I was adapting to it, her quiet comment about how she didn't understand where I had all of that extra energy... well now I know. I should have been saving it for today.

It's not rocket science

I've been racing and biking for a while now. Over the years I've probably spent close to $2,000 or more on shop labor alone. And thankfully I've found a great shop who is willing to answer my questions about this and that. I've been picking up tips and tricks throughout the years. But tonight was special. Tonight I changed my own cables and rear ceramic pulley's and tuned up the rain beast.

The poor thing needed it - after the past month of record setting rain and hours upon hours resting upon her frame, her bearings and spinning parts needed some love. She also developed a creak, which meant only one thing. It was time I tried doing my own cables.

Armed with the road bike mechanics bible, I was pleasantly surprised that is a relatively an easy task. Now I'm not claiming to be some mechanical guru - the fact couldn't be further from the case. But if I can do my own maintenance then why not? It sure will save me some cash in the long run.

I am feeling more confident that if I do seriously break down on a long ride, as long as I'm armed with a multi-tool, I should be able to fix anything. For everything else - there's Mastercard.

Now if I can just get this black shit off my hands....

Food

Like my friend Michelle, food has been on the brain lately.

Sauté crumbled sweet Italian sausage with cubes of butternut squash in a bit of oil. Toss in cooked farro and dress with more oil and lemon juice. Serve as a salad or toss with grated Parmesan and use as a stuffing.

Toss chunks of butternut squash with butter and curry powder. Roast until half-tender, then stir in chunks of apple and some maple syrup. Cook, shaking the pan occasionally, until everything is nicely browned and tender.

After reading hordes of recipes, I've found bacon and butter to be the common theme. Why bacon? Because it enhances the flavor of everything. And butter? Well butter just tastes better. Ask Julia Child.

Cook chopped onions in olive oil until soft. Add chopped spinach and a handful of raisins — maybe a little port, too — and cook until wilted and almost dry. Roasted pine nuts are good on top.

Damn! Why didn't I think of this?

Steam and salt edamame. Whisk soy and honey together in a small saucepan over low heat. Add grated ginger and a bit of cornstarch, stir until slightly thickened and pour over edamame.

Buy some cheese. Unwrap it and put it on a plate with some walnuts and fruit; let come to room temperature. Serve with good bread.

Need more ideas?

A heavy hitting Whirling Dervish

I often struggle with what to say. How to take the millions of thoughts that pass through my brain and convey them to anyone near. It's hard to just shut certain feelings and thoughts out - how to let go of silly things that have no bearing on the big picture. And I suppose this is my brain's way of coping and avoiding sad and negative thoughts.

Try as I may with keeping ultra busy - hosting back to back dinner parties and trying to stay on top of everyday tasks, it came to a screeching halt last night. I was flipping through a cook book to look up roasting a chicken when I came across a list Ryan wrote for things for the cabin. Seeing his handwriting so unexpectedly made me pause, for I don't know how long. I ran my fingers over his distinctive script, as it transported me to another time and place. But I couldn't take a moment then to cry and remember just how much I miss my soul mate because I knew the floodgates would open. I had mouths to feed and friends on their way - that grief would have to wait until later.

Dinner went well, laughs were shared, conversations ensued. My sister was there with her boyfriend and their dog Wally and it was really nice seeing them so at ease and relaxed. They are really happy together and I am really happy for them. Lips were smacking, fingers licked and both Erik and RMiller went back into the kitchen later to polish off any scraps left in the dishes (the ultimate compliment to the cook!).

And after everyone had left, the dishes put away, the extra chairs and leaf to the table stored downstairs - and I hoisted Makiah up onto the bed and crawled between the sheets myself, that little bit of grief came crashing in.

I keep a picture of Ryan on the wall in my bedroom. It's one of him at the crag in New Halem, looking up (as he always did) with a slight stubble on his face, warm clothes wrapped around him. His face looks like he's concentrating on something - either running a climbing problem through his head or coming up with some witty comeback for the camera man. I stare at this picture every day. But last night it sent me spiraling. I long for him. Long for his touch, to feel his face, hear his laugh. We could be any where in the world together and completely in bliss. To just have him around. I miss him so much.

The holidays can be tough. They bring together families and traditions, which I am very thankful for. But for some they are a reminder that life can change in an instant.

Let the Hibernation begin...

So this is why people start taking anti-depressants. The sky hasn't changed color for days and the last of falls leaves cling tightly to the branches, threatening to fall completely off in the next wind storm.

It hasn't stopped raining since the last storm blew into town last night. The parking lot at work is backed up again with a knee high puddle threatening to enter the building if a car decides to pass too quickly.

The rain is officially back. The west side of Washington has been slammed by 4 storms in the last week - bringing with it wet, damp weather and wind gusts up to 60 mph. Power outages litter the metro areas, a reminder to make sure you have an alternate heat source if and when you lose power. It's as though we're paying our dues for one the best summer's ever in the Northwest.

Every where I've gone lately - from the climbing gym, weight lifting gym, Albertsons, etc - I can't help but notice there's a running theme between them all - people are missing.

It's as though the rain, a steady and constant companion in the winter months, has got people barricaded up in their homes, protecting their homesteads and sanity. Indoor projects take precedent over playing outside in the monsoon. Gatherings are thought of - and then banished if that means leaving your warm abode.

On a sunny note, while the weather has most people scurrying indoors, the weather has had an opposite effect on me. This is the time to put money in the bank for training and getting after it. It's also a reminder that snow is falling in the mountains and winter play is the best way to cure the winter blues. I can't wait for skate and tele skiing! I'm getting winter tires put on my car as we speak and putting on my rocket box tonight... yahoo!!! Anyone interested in learning to skate?

"Risk more than others think is safe. Care more than others think is wise. Dream more than others think is practical. Expect more than others think is possible. "
~ Cadet Maxim

On a side note...

So I'm outside between rain showers, raking up the leaves from my multiple trees in the yard and scattering them on the areas where I plan to plant in the spring. And suddenly, I start getting swarmed by yellow jackets. Thankfully it's cold outside and they're moving sluggishly - but they're still moving and coming right for me. When I finally figure out that I disrupted a nest in the fern on the side of my house, an angry lone bugger stings me in the butt!

In the house I go holding my ass and hoping I don't have to use my epi pen. Who would have thought of getting stung in November? Unless those pests serve a useful part in the local food chain - then they're getting exterminated. Oh well - wishful thinking for trying to spend more time outdoors.

Smaller footprints...

Just finished up reading a book titled, "Plenty" written by two authors out of Vancouver, BC. This thought provoking book had me re-examine my own eating habits and cooking patterns. If you're looking for some food for thought (pun totally intended!) then check out this book!

The basic premise - this couple decides to try living off of foods found within a 100 mile radius of their home in the city for a year. Their quest starts in October. At first they had a hard time adapting their meals to stay within these boundaries. How many ways can you cook a potato? Where does wheat come from? How about rice? Or pineapples or oranges? What about wine or beer? They had to say goodbye to several things they became accustomed to. It really made them examine in fine detail about where all of our foods come from and how we can survive if the global economy comes to a stand still. It also gives some interesting history facts about the Vancouver area and the sustainability practices of Native Americans.

Once spring and summer rolled around, they were able to grow their own sustainable garden and use canning and root cellar techniques to get them through another hard winter. And once the year was over they actually continued to use truly local products - not only because of the ethics involved but also because they taste way better than anything imported.

And it made me think of my old next door neighbor Jo, who one summer taught me how to make black and blue berry jelly and tuck them away in the cupboard for times like today when you need a little something sweet on your toast.

Thankfully I live about a mile away from a PCC. For the most part they stick to local crops for their produce. But if you roam the isles of breads, crackers and frozen goods - you'd be amazed at how far some of those products travel to make it into your belly. Next time you're on the hunt for crackers - I dare you to find a single one made in Washington. It's harder than you think!

I guess I'm become more and more a hippie as I age. Bring on the quinoa and hairy pits! Anyone have any old overalls you'd like to get rid of?

Built to Spill

Oh yeah, Built to Spill is coming to town next week! Just bought tickets and am excited to shake my booty at the Showbox. Tickets are still available for Thursday's all ages show....

Staying busy

Oh man the past few days have been so busy. From team meetings to discussions, training twice a day to cooking lessons to dodging sheets of rain and figuring out what to do with the 25 pounds of veggies I just had delivered to my house!

It's nice to stay busy in the darker months. It makes me appreciate those rest afternoons in my training schedule that much more and helps me to fully utilize that time by kicking the feet up.

Another added bonus about being a bike racer - you quickly become an expert of chilling out. Time off the bike is taken with as much dedication as being on the bike. If you don't then you're compromising your training efforts. And if I'm going to be pedaling in puddles then I'm going to make it count.

And count it has. 6.5 hours in the past two days. That's what I'm talking about.

Seasons chaning

Down come the leaves in rapid succession as the steady November rain drizzles from the sky. I'm sure the landscape will look a lot different after the next 4 days of solid rain. Yesterday's dry weather was a blessing, that's for sure and Karen, Tela and I made the most of it by riding to visit Liz and new baby Anna. Liz is so happy being the proud new mommy and Anna is a sweet, sweet baby.

It's amazing to me how babies help you forget about pain and loss - even when they cry for some small comfort, it reminds you of the circle of life. Another generation on its way while another one fades...

While the rest of my friends were out and about on Halloween, hooting and hollering and carrying on, my brother and his family were putting his kids to sleep. Laurel (aka Ladybug) had been on a serious sugar high all night from the candy she collected, which she refused to let go of her clutches all night. George had Bug bed duty that night and as he was calming her down, he heard a "pop, pop, pop" noise.

Out of the house he rushed, in his socks, sweats and t-shirt - doing a 100m dash to his side garage to grab his police car. He nearly knocked off the siren lights on the garage door as he chased down and caught the eggers. (Picture Dukes of Hazzard, gravel peel out and all!)

Well you bet your bottom dollar he caught those little buggers. You'd think this was masterminded by some teenagers who don't know any better - but as it turns out the Sutton casa had been egged by two 20 year old guys. One of which is the son of the local fire chief and another one who thinks George has it out for him.

Gooooo Goooo Roscoe!

Well that off duty deputy called dispatch and had someone on duty come pick them up and haul their mischievous little butts into jail. Too funny.

Something to work on

I think I figured out my number one goal for the 2010 season - how to hold back. I know, sounds silly, right? But for some reason, once that gun goes or that whistle blows - I come shooting out of the gates like a rocket and then BAM! Get nailed later by the build up of lactic acid. If I can just figure out how to pace myself.... then look out!

I was reminded of that this very weekend in fact. My first cyclocross race of the year - second ever. I decide to jump in with the cat 3 women despite my lack of obvious skills but figure, why not? My license says I'm a 3 (thanks to the automatic road upgrade) so I dabbled in it. In classic form, I take off like a rabbit on the first lap. I'm feeling good - sticking with the lead group. And then the barriers come. Uh oh. Suddenly I was off the lead group. And each time I would come upon those minor obstacles, I'd find myself further and further back. Thank goodness my mind set was solid - I was just there for the workout. And workout I did! Each time I would encounter the barriers, I would automatically start laughing at myself - thinking about how funny it must be to watch someone who has zero skill at doing trying to gracefully dismount and remount my bike. I will say this - I didn't fall. But I did belly laugh an awful lot despite being deprived of oxygen.

The past few days have been filled with scouring the Internet trying to learn from youtube examples of how to do this essential act. Just goes to show though - watching someone do something is no substitute for actually doing it yourself. So tomorrow night - rain or shine, I'm going to practice at Marymoor. Bring on the mud!


Oh - and here's proof that I suck at barriers - look how fast the dude next to me is cruising! My camera is notorious for NEVER capturing moving objects in focus .... enough said.

The leaves are watching....

Today I felt the cool wind on my face, damp with recent rain falling down from the gray sky. My wheels rolled over billions of fallen leaves, matted down to the trail like paper mache. Relying on the fact that I know the bumpy Burke Gilman trail by braille, it was easy to avoid known obstacles despite their disappearance.

Today was the first day of training for 2010. I dug out my winter clothing - with each piece tried and carefully selected for one purpose - warmth. Six seasons of winter training and I think it's safe to say I'm dialed in for the weather ahead. Now I have to maintain the delicate balance between staying motivated and not over doing it.

I thought of Ryan a lot today. He's been on my mind a lot lately and a frequent visitor to my dreams. I'm always thankful for his presence and absolutely miss him. But he also keeps me motivated because I know he's always watching and won't let me slack one tiny bit in my quest for pedaling circles on a world cup level.

New Traditions

Now that one year has come and gone and all of the firsts, as far as the calendar is concerned, are now seconds, I get to focus on creating new memories and traditions. My friend Sharon provided me with that key insight and it renewed my spirit for the upcoming holidays (which I dreaded last year) and thinking of ways to spend them. The more outrageous the better!

So thrown into the mix for Thanksgiving (which is a 4 day weekend!) and Christmas include...

Another Rogue River Rally
Mazama Mania
Smitten for Smith Rock
Curious for Coastal Cruises
Ping Pong Punishment at the Lodge

What to do, what to do...

Paranoia

I'm the first to admit that time spent off the bike means I start obsessing about other things. But my current obsession on Facebook and privacy is definitely warranted... and you should be paranoid too.

Identity theft. Ever heard of it? Ever dealt with it?

The Federal Trade commission estimates that as many as 9 million Americans have their identity stolen each year. Sure you've probably heard of someone having their social security number lifted and then found out later some impersonator had opened a credit line in their name. Then that person probably bored you with the details of all the hoops and red tape they had to ensue to clear their name.

But what about the current form of identity theft taking social networks by storm?

Did you ever stop to think when you signed up for Facebook or MySpace that you should deselect certain options - like not allowing non-friends to view information about you? Or how about when you download a "fun" application (who doesn't have the food throwing ability on their profile?) that this was allowing third party applications to view ALL of your personal data? Unless you have specifically gone through the myriad of security measures (that are NOT user friendly, by the way) then you are opening yourself up for potential identity theft.

I hope this is common knowledge for most. I hope I'm just preaching to the choir.

But let me back up a bit and put into context my recent paranoia.

A few months ago, I was surfing FB at work. On my home page in the friend suggestion box a name popped up that has ZERO connection to anyone anywhere within my social network. He was someone I only contact in the professional world. I immediately grew suspicious.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine mentioned that she thought we were friends already on FB and that she keeps getting a friend request from me. I thought nothing of it, and so did she until she kept getting the same request this past week. She forwarded me the profile and this other "Jennifer Triplett" has lifted 7 photos from my profile in attempt to gain access to my friend's profile. She knew it wasn't me when that fake profile only had two friends on it. We both immediately reported the profile.

Then later that very day, I receive an email from "Microsoft" reporting that my email server is changing and it needs me to update some information. I contacted my friend Josh who hosts my site to let him know about the email and he said it looks like fraud.

Three instances that have sent me into a serious paranoia and serious contemplation of shutting down and closing all of my social networks.

I suppose the moral of the story? Keep tabs on all of your stuff. Set your privacy settings to Fort Knox proportions. Don't let it happen to you. And make sure your friends and family are doing the same.

(PS - I get back on the bike next week. :)

Nationals 2009

And now, the long anticipated race report....

Tela, Wheeler and I flew down on the Saturday before racing started on Wednesday to get some track time before the big day. Even though I have gone to nationals 4 times in LA, the track still freaks me out! I probably averaged at least 25 mph during our first "get calmly used to the track" session. Why, you might ask? At 250 meters and 45 degrees in the banking, you have to maintain a minimum speed of about 17 mph or face the humiliation of sliding down the track. It also helps to have new, gripping tires - wearing the same tires you've raced all season at Marymoor simply won't work. Add that with nervousness of the event and a week of taper - you bet I had the fastest warm up of my life! (And yes, I did spend hours of gluing with Jennie by putting on new tires on all of my race wheels.)

A couple more days of track time definitely calmed my nerves and by Thursday I was ready to go. First up - scratch race heats with the top 10 of each qualifying into the final. Shelley Olds proved the right wheel to be on in the final laps and we easily cruised through for top placements. But as long you achieve a top 10 placement in the heat is insignificant.

Next up - the 3k team pursuit. This is the event we've been focusing on. Unfortunately with Kendi away at Whitman for the past month, Wheeler and I had been doing the efforts minus one person. Once Kendi arrived in LA, we were able to nail down our exchanges in the training sessions a couple days before and went into the race confident and ready to go.

I started, Kendi second and Wheeler third. Call it nerves or something but my start was blistering fast and I looked back to see I had created a small gap. I toned it down to make sure we didn't blow up in the first lap. This is an event where you have to finish with all three women - if you have gaps between you then it makes it that much harder and slower. Toward the end of our go, a little gap started to open between Kendi and Wheeler once I pulled off - so I slipped in between them, giving Wheeler a little more time to rest the finish. We posted a time of 3:54 - a 3rd place podium finish! (First consisted of World Champ Sarah Hammer, National and Pan/Am champ Dotsie Bausch and National Champ and Junior World medalist Kim Geist with a time of 3:34, setting a national record. Second was the Proman squad (Higgins, Olds and King) with a time of 3:41.)

We still had business to do - the scratch race final. I'm not sure what the rules are as far as team tactics in a track race - but if you could have seen the scratch race in person you might have mistaken it for a crit. Proman was countering attack after attack and sitting in the chase group and slowing down any forward progress of catching those off the front. In a well timed attack, Shelley Olds went off the front of the group solo and lapped the field, securing a consecutive scratch race national title. Even the announcer was calling the obvious team tactics and as a rider in the field, it was frustrating. But that's racing and lesson learned - if you can't beat them, keep trying.

On the way back from the track, we gave Bobby Lea a ride back to the Redondo Beach house we were staying at and he offered some amazing advice into track racing. Coming from an Olympian and Scratch race winner that night, I really took to heart what he said. I find myself in complete amazement of being surrounded by such accomplished track stars - I can't think of any group of people who could possibly lend more insight into this sport.

Friday was the individual pursuit. I had a good ride and did a personal best - placing me in 5th! A couple of things to note though - my opening lap is as fast as Sarah Hammer's. I've tried and for some reason can't dial down my opening effort. I have two options - either figure out a way to start slower so I can have a more consistent effort for the entire 3k or build up my capacity so I can maintain the blistering fast pace I start out with. Option B sounds better, what do you think?

After a solid night's rest, it was back to the track for the 50 lap points race heats. The first heat was stacked - with Hammer, Olds, Cliff-VanRyan, Williams, and several others battling it out for the top 10 spots to qualify for the final. Kendi and I were also in heat 1. A decisive mid-race move containing 5 women who lapped the field, left the rest of us to qualify by sprinting for points. With 3 laps to go, I came up to the front of the field alongside Hammer. I could sense her getting ready to take off and as she sped up, I fell in line right behind her. Rounding corner 2 seated right behind Sarah in the last lap was the hardest I think I have ever gone on my bike. The last few laps were definitely a highlight of my season.

The 100 lap points race final was a few hours later and the plan was to watch the main players and wait for the move. With 10 chances to gain points, I sat in for the first couple of sprints and then watched as a perfectly timed attack from Sarah and Shelley went right before my eyes. I was on it - but with the slight hesitation I had, couldn't quite close the bike length gap between myself and Shelley for a decisive move that cost me the podium. I spent 3 laps in la la land - spending a HUGE amount of energy and couldn't quite close the small gap. Sarah and Shelley ended up lapping the field. I drifted back to the field exhausted, deflated and generally bummed out. Negative thoughts started drifting into my head - I was emotionally ready to break. But then I was able to gather myself back up, thanks to Jennie shouting encouragement from the side line, and scored a few more points. I ended up getting 9th. Looking back on it now though - I was so close to the podium that the woulda coulda shoulda's have been played over and over in my head. But at least I went for it.

The final day of racing had a demonstration women Madison. Another 100 laps. Christine and I partnered up for the event and, how do I put this lightly, got creamed. We finished 6th out of 10 teams. Unfortunately we weren't really in the mix with the top 5 teams to contend for any points - so it came down to the final placement on the last lap. It was fun participating in the first event for women at Nationals but my competitive edge has left me hungry and eager for more.

All in all Nationals was very successful on multiple levels. I made the podium in two new events, had several personal bests and learned some tricks to stay calm while inside the 'pressure cooker.' I also had the opportunity to watch my teammates express their abilities on the track and cheer them on. Wheeler's first go at it was amazing - she definitely has a future in this sport. And Jennie's support and coaching was world class - she deserves a National Championship for that in itself.

Thank you...

I am absolutely certain life's trials attributed to my success this year at Nationals. Being able to make the most of your time on this planet - especially when focused on an athletic endeavor makes the time pass quickly and easily. Now that I've had some time to reflect at home, this past year was one of the best performances I've ever had and fuels my fire for the years to come.

Having something to focus on while experiencing a year of firsts since Ryan's death was a God send. It would have been far to easy to slip into grieving unconsciousness, letting the blues consume me. Instead I found the right mental and physical support group that pushed me to new levels and helped me realize that I can do this.

I'd like to personally thank Jennie Reed for being a world class coach, mentor and friend. Her commitment to coaching me was beyond the call of duty and I feel so very blessed to have been coached by her. Not only did she provide kick ass workouts, but she also spent nearly as much time at the track as I did - providing lap times, effort explanations, encouragement and laughter. I learned how to give each effort 100% and go beyond what I thought was possible.

I'd also like to thank my mom- who was flexible with work, life and time throughout my demanding workouts and quick dashes to the track when the weather was dictating what could be done.

And of course all of my friends and family who provided tons of encouragement and cheering while I pedaled several hundred miles in circles.

Wow - what a great past two weeks it's been. Not only was Nationals a highlight of the year - but I also got to top it off by spending a week in the High Sierra's. There's nothing like climbing at 10,000 plus feet to get your mind off things.

Race report to come....

The calm before the storm

I'm sitting in the rental house right now in Redondo Beach, throwing distance from the Pacific Ocean. Everyone staying at the house, which appears to be growing by the minute, is gone watching the first day of competition at the track. I opted to chill and enjoy a little beach air and relaxation before being stuck in a fish bowl in Carson. We've put in a couple of efforts at the track the past couple of days and tomorrow will be day one of some serious pedaling. I'm looking forward to it and expressing 110% of my ability. Team Pursuit and scratch races kick off the extravaganza.

More to come...

Let the Countdown begin...

It seems like during the past week, every minute has been accounted for in the count down to departure for LA. Wheels have been glued, trued, and pumped. Bikes have been polished, tweaked and loved. Skin suits washed and kits selected. Meetings attended, food consumed, rest and recovery put in the utmost priority.

Not to mention all of the prep time that's been put in at the track. The hours of sweat, lung pumping, leg screaming pain is about to be put on display while pedaling circles on an indoor track. No head winds to contend with, no rain clouds to dodge. No 98" gears.

It's all coming to a head starting next Thursday with Team Pursuit kicking off the action. We're ready, that's for sure.

For the first time in awhile - I'm getting nervous. I feel more prepared than ever before and can't wait to see what happens!

And to sweeten the deal? I had a dream encounter with Ryan the other night. He gave me the biggest, warmest smile and I remember thinking what a beautiful man he is.

After Nationals, Chris and I are headed on a road trip - Yosemite bound! A great way to celebrate some down time. Looking at doing Snake Dike on Half Dome....