Experiencing the World

When your heart is beating out of your chest at the Start Line; When you cry after crossing the Finish Line; You know it meant something in the Middle while racing the World.

Crédit: Louis Charland

  
——————
I’ve needed a couple of days to digest. And truthfully, I’m still not ready, but the start of the work week is kind of forcing me to work through everything, as the hum drum daily work routine makes me feel like this weekend's World Championships was a blip in time.

I know it was more than that.
——————
I don’t know how to put so many feelings into words. I registered in April, telling myself it was for the experience. To have no other expectations. Yet, once race day rolled closer, I knew that I wanted something more than an experience.
I lined up prepared as I could in the training/racing time that I had allowed myself this summer, I had expectations of where I may land, and dreams of what could be.
——————

Nothing compares to all the feelings pulsing through your body upon hearing your name called up at an International Start Line, let alone a World Championship one. So many languages of excitement filling the empty space in between the French loud speaker & what I’m sure was my speed laden heart beat in my ear drum. When they switched from speaker call-ups to the heart thumping before the gunshot start, I couldn’t tell whose heart was pounding louder; mine or the one blasting all over the mountain.

“POPP!!!”


I knew I wanted a good start.
And I had a great start, almost hole-shotting the age group two rows ahead of me.

Crédit: Louis Charland

Crédit: Louis Charland

As we raced for position on the taxing uphill start loop hill, I was in the 3-4th slot, but all of a sudden I got a feeling like my body couldn’t respond to what my heart and mind were prepared for. I tried to ignore it. I relinquished a few spots. I kept at it.

Photo Credit: Kristen Lukach

Personally, I liked the course. It wasn’t overly technical by New England standards, as it was a course that was fun to shred up and down, with switchback climbing that rewarded you with sweeping steep berms/pump track goodness going down. Yet, a couple of the descents made you be on your awareness A-Game, by throwing rooty/rocky/slickness at you. It was a course that could make you truly suffer at race pace speed: No rest for the weary.

I knew it would hurt everyone once we went past the start loop, so I tried my hardest to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in my body, and keep pushing the pedals.
——————

Photo Credit: Kristen Lukach

The thing about trying to get everything to click on race day, especially a World Championship race, is a total crap shoot. You can put in all the training hours required, feel prepared/great, and get taken out at the start line or have a mechanical issue mid-race. You can line up in the last row, power through the entire field, and nail an unexpected result. Sometimes, it all clicks and you land on the podium. It's elation when it lines up; Heartbreak when it falls apart. 
Yet, once the gunshot goes off, you never know what is going to happen but you Hope you will be the best you can be.
You Hope that your legs will power you through the next uphill. 
You Hope that your bike will carry you fast, but safely over the varied terrain. 
You secretly Hope that you have a better day than your competitor. 
But you Hope them all the best and safe race for all.
The power of Hope is what tells you to never give up when it all hurts.

——————
As the laps went from 1 to 2 to 3, I knew that my expectations and dreams weren’t going to be fulfilled, as my body wasn't going to cooperate with my plan, so I simply kept pushing the pedals as hard as I could, when I could, and never stopped giving up Hope.

Photo Credit: Kristen Lukach

I almost stopped in the finish line confusion at the end of lap 4, but I looked backwards at the UCI Official, Hoping that I really wasn't done. 
He gave me the 'keep going' signal and I gladly headed back out for my 5th and final lap. 
I enjoyed each piece of the course on the last lap and made sure to say ‘Mercí Mercí’ to every course volunteer as I passed.

I crossed the finish line.

Crédit: Louis Charland

And I thanked the timing chip volunteers.
And I thanked the photographer.
And I went over to Kristen and I cried for a moment.
And I thanked her. And I hugged her.

And I was 9th in the World in my age group.

——————

I made a pact with a powerfully strong and positive Kathleen, to not undercut that accomplishment.

To be proud of it.

I put myself out there on a World stage I had never experienced before.
I raced with World class athletes.
I went way outside and above my comfort zone.
And, I finished.
——————
I sat on the train into work today and wondered who else on it raced with the World this past weekend.
I would be surprised if there were any other hands up with mine.
——————
I know others are proud of me, but it has been hard to say that I am proud of myself. I'm getting there, but not 100%.
I'm not sure why, but I think one reason may be that when someone asks how I did, it is immediately followed up by ‘How many did you race with?’ Don't get me wrong, I know numbers matter, just ask the Rainbow Jersey holders and those that stood on the podium with them. 1st through 3rd place matters and I know that it matters for those who place 4th-999th. 
Truthfully, it is going to take time to allow myself to be proud of my finishing place, regardless of how many people I raced against. Maybe a few more days will allow it to fully sink in. 
But I will tell you what I am proud of today.

I showed up and I gave it everything I could on the day. While it wasn’t my dream finish, I finished safely and mechanical free and had my wife and friends cheering me on. I am proud of myself that I took a chance and showed myself what I am capable of, regardless of how the results played out. 
There is more where that came from.

——————

Before the race, I said this was a once in a lifetime type experience.
I don’t want it to be.
I want to be back again.
I have Hope I will be back on this World stage again.
I want to experience the rainbow dream I had in reality.

Fitting to have on my work calendar when I returned.

——————

I am Humbled by all the cheers of support from family and friends, near and far.
I am Lucky that Dave believes in my physical ability and gave me the tools needed to get me across the line.
I am Grateful and Thankful to Kristen for being my biggest supporter and for believing in me.

Thank you, All. 

What it is all about...

Little Bellas intensely listening to Lea and the other Pro Ladies

One year ago today, I was having Kristen rescue me from an overnight hospital stay after attempting to challenge myself via an A-line jump gamble. While the jump attempt was a failure, I’ve learned a lot in a year.

**********

Saturday, we drove up to Williston, VT and luckily were able to stay with awesome friends for a weekend of riding/racing bikes, picking blackberries, having great conversations, playing legos, and cheering on friends! (I'm so grateful/thankful for this amazing community-day in and day out) 

Puppy pets/blackberry picking/cheering on friends

I entered the short track race for Saturday and felt hopeful at my chances, given my previous history. I worked for the hole shot, lead the first lap until a little knoll on the backstretch let the rest of the gal crew engulf me, slingshot past me, never to be seen again. I felt like I had power but was missing the energy levels to go behind my strength. I was embarrassed and honestly, a part of me still is, but it is fading. While I was faster per lap, compared to the previous year, it didn’t hold a candle to the girls I was racing with.
Twenty-five years my junior and they kicked my behind. And that is how it should be, honestly.

Those amazing young gals kicked butt and shredded so fast! It is inspiring to see and I hope they keep it up, keep kicking my butt, and keep getting faster!!

Sunday was the regular XC race and I decided to race in the Pro field, to challenge myself but to also have competition to ride with. My start wasn’t my usual quick clip/hammer outta the gates, for my chain skipped down a gear. I didn’t crash or take anyone else out, and made up a couple of spots going into the single track. I was happy to feel good but then my lead legs showed up, and I got passed to become DFL.
Side Note: This is how I always feel after stopping for 5-10 minutes after getting my legs warm. I need to figure out a way to keep my legs moving during the 15min start line call up jazz, for I feel like if I could get the 10 minute lead legged junk to pass quicker at the beginning of a race, I could have fighting chance.
I didn’t take any A-Line gambles this time, but I have faith in my ability that I could have done them, for I played around during a practice lap, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Additionally, sections that I flew down in the past, I was a bit more apprehensive at race pace. That made my times suffer some, for going downhill fast is my bread and butter. As I climbed the second uphill, I made my goal to beat my time from last year of a little over 29 minutes.
When I reached the back end of the course, in the flow-y berms sections, I saw a fellow Pro lady and was surprised to be within sight distance. I picked up my pace and really worked the berms and flow corners, which I love, tapping the brakes maybe twice. I caught and passed her and was floored at myself. She was too and I tried to push it before the back stretch that was a hot/gradual uphill into grass that sucks your energy outta your legs. I also looked down at my Garmin, hoping to be under 30 minutes and I was a tidbit over 26 minutes before we hit the grass slog. I had beat my previous years time by 3 minutes on the first lap. I was hopeful to stay in that range.
I held of the gal off I had passed until we started climbing again on our second lap. She passed me and I kept pushing myself to stick to her wheel. She made a gap and I kept creeping back, then I made a stupid bobble/topple over mistake because I spun my back wheel out on a root and lost traction. It took me a few moments to get out of my bike and back on, but I had hope I could snag her again.
I was pushing it, but trying to snag onto a fast wheel, on the section of course that was my weakest strength (climbing), was hard. I captured a couple more glimpses of her, but a couple more dabs on my end, and she gone! The second lap was not smooth and my time addition of 3 minutes, showed it. (Second side note: it was 5+ minutes faster than the second lap from the previous year and I kept going. I only did two laps last year due to a bad back)
I shifted my goal to keep my last two laps under 30 min. It was close, but I did it, and finished. I'm not gonna lie. It doesn't always feel good to to finish last of the pack, but when I looked at results, I was only a little over a minute away from the lady I was trying to snag. I also have to take a step back and realize that I made improvements from last year, so that is a positive outlook, regardless of my placing.
But enough about me.

40+ Shredders ready to roll

Rollin' with a good crew

I have learned that through mountain biking that I (we) can make an impact. I knew this before, have done it before, and try to keep doing it. After my race, I took part in a chapter visit with the local Little Bellas session day and I tell you what; It made me smile and realize again, that there is so much more joy in riding bikes, spreading that joy and confidence building, then where I finish or if I can take the A-Line or not.

I don't even know where to begin. These rad Little Bellas had a blast hanging with a bunch of girls, getting Pro rider autographs, riding bikes, playing games, and learning new skills. I was super impressed with the coordination and ease all of the mentors exhibited. I was blown away at how good the beginners7-8yr olds rocked it over roots/rocks/dips. I couldn't stop smiling at all the sideways concentration tongues sticking out during the dab games. Finally, my eyes watered from the joy, upon hearing second hand, how some of these Little Bellas excitedly told their mom or dad how much fun they had, that they couldn't wait til next week, and how they were not going to take a shower b/c of the autographs on their arms.

Serious game of dab happening!

In the end, my results don't make a difference to anyone. They only matter to me, won't effect anyone else, and they don't help others gain confidence or inspire change. Only sharing my excitement and bringing the joy of mountain biking to others can do that. This is where I (we) can continually make a difference. Challenging, laughing, having fun with, and learning from the younger generations. It makes a difference now and will make a difference later on.

This is what it is all about.

Reset:Recharge

“In a world that owes you nothing

You give everything

Everything

----

Now that you're caught between

What you can't leave behind

And all that you may never find

So fly, just fly

Just fly one time…”

Fly One Time-Ben Harper and Relentless 7

Saturday gave me so much, in so many ways.
I wanted to fly up the mountain and back down. I wanted to feel like my old self; confidence, coolness, comfortableness, and cocky.
I tried to channel positivity, in that I have been putting in the work, maybe now would be the time the results showed it and my body reacted. I slapped a #KeepItFun Catharine Pendrel sticker of rainbows and unicorns happiness on my bike and gave it all a go. 
Brutal honesty: My body wasn’t up for the task and hasn’t been up for the task for the past couple of months. Maybe it is a plateau, maybe it is full blown fatigue, maybe it is mental. I know I need a bike/workout sabbatical and that is what this week is about, which is hard when others are slaying it and rocking out rad rides in perfect weather. However, to right this ship and to get ready to roll for the second season that is coming up fast, it is necessary. For once, I’m not fighting it. 

•••••

Photo Cred:Alice Johannen

This weekend, I was as ready as I could be. I took a chance and popped myself into the Elite Women’s field, knowing it would make me work and it would challenge me. I tried, but it (I) was subpar. Personally, I was happy enough with my start and how I was a part of the conga line of rad ladies as we climbed and then climbed some more, but it didn’t last long. Yet, I didn’t beat myself up this time and this isn’t a pity party post.

•••••

We all want to get better, to be faster, to be stronger, to know that all the work that we put in will have a result that we are pleased with. We train to our mental toughness peaks, train to our power numbers, train our hearts to react certain ways, train our muscle fibers to give and let go in so many methods of madness for speed and reactionary prowess. When the whistle blows, we hope it is all supposed to be like how we have trained: Flawless, Fierce, Fast, Flying.

Sometimes everything clicks in that moment and sometimes, nothing clicks at all. 

I’m sure we all go through this ebb and flow of love/hate with racing, and even riding at times. When swinging your leg over the saddle for another training session may send excitement for the potential possibilities that lie ahead or full shutters through your body. Honestly, who knows why; For something that we give so much to, we often wonder what does it give back? Compound those thoughts with injury flashbacks, tentativity swirling through your head,  and feelings of flatness, fried, fatigue body, heart, mind; It can all make one wonder, ‘What am I doing here?!?’ “Why am I racing?!’

…Really, do any of us really know?!?!

This past Saturday provided me with the what and why I am doing this.

Photo Cred: Meg McMahon

I race to push myself past my limits because it makes me feel young. I feel like I’m 20 again, slightly invincible in an aging and somewhat broken 38 year old body. It gives me joy and connects me to the things I don’t have in my 8-6 M-F hummm drummm work life. I connect it to the past freedom, exhilaration, and work effort that was required to swing a leg over the saddle of a horse growing up on the farm. I connect it to flying, much like galloping on our horses on the trails behind our farmhouse. “How fast can I go on this steed, how much more can my eyes water, how amazing does the wind flowing past my face feel, I wonder how big my smile is as I go faster and faster?!” For me, racing is the feeling of youth, freedom, and unbridled challenges that may lie ahead. These feelings may not occur in every race or on every ride I do now, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t lurking in the back of my soul, eeking to get out as soon as I start pedaling.

Photo Cred: Meg McMahon

I race because I love this community. They give so much, often without even trying. It may be a start line high five, it may be a random cheer on course or a water handup, it may be a photog snapping a pic that makes you feel good about your day, it may be random chat with friends you rarely see but feel like you left off exactly where your last conversation ended, it may be a DJ sing along session for a two hour plus drive to a venue with a buddy, it may be the laughs of nervousness we all share before a whistle goes off, or it may be the shared relief that we all did the same course at our limits and finished it in one muddy, sweaty piece. It could also be the random check in with fellow racers when life events, health issues, or injuries have keep them down or behind. Sometimes it is fleeting conversations or full length word fests, surely filled with a laugh or two at some point. Yet, I think it is the respect for each other, as a person and as a fellow racer, regardless of gender, sexual identity, race and ethnic background, political association, disability status, socioeconomic status that sticks out the most about this community. We may not get it right all the time, but I’ll be damned if the underlying sentiment of respect for one another isn’t running through each of our veins. 

I keep racing because I feel from this respect for each other highlights another aspect of why I love this community. We all care for each other, care for our sport of cycling (whether it is Road/MTB/CX or others), we care about our cycling community, and we care about our roles in it. We don’t necessarily care about daily training feats of others, yet they can be impressive at times. And while we want to keep growing on each of our own levels personally, we also want to grow our sport for all levels and age groups. We want to continue our community outreach and identifying/fixing any goals/challenges within it and try our damnedest to make it better in any way we can. Sometimes, the enormity of caring so much for all of this, may come off as crass or rude, sometimes it may appear to be misaligned with the bigger picture or smaller bullet points, and sometimes it may seem like a perfect fit that will never fit in an imperfect world. This caring thing may not be easy all the time and it is a lot of work, but in the minuscule rewards that happen, we know that they will eventually compound into larger ones, so we keep trying and giving it our all in any way we can.

Photo Cred: Meg McMahon

And finally, through both racing and riding, I have made a mix of acquaintances and life long friendships. Heck, I even met my amazing wife through this crazy sport! I greatly value the woven fabric of friendships and relationships that I have created. I don't have enough poetic prose of random sentences to string together in order to tell you all that you mean a heck of a lot to me. I am thankful and grateful to be able to race and ride my bike for a number of reasons, but you all are one of the largest reasons why I keep coming back and keep putting in the work. So thank you to you all, for helping solidify the ‘What’ and the ‘Why’ I often question as I am red-lined in a training session or pedaling up a hill in a race.

We all share something special in this crazy cycling world and I am really lucky I get to share it with you all.

Ras•poo•teet•sah

As I was having a going away breakfast at my current position, before transitioning into a new role, someone came to up to me and said “I know that you aren’t a hugger, but I’m going to give you one anyway.” I was taken back by this comment because I have never heard that come out of anyone’s mouth to me before!

Me?

Not a hugger?

Whatchu talkin’ ‘bout Willis?!?!?


•••••••


I was gonna write a Rasputitsa race report about how freakin’ out of this world Hiedi and Anthony rocked this year’s event! I mean come on, who else can convince a Bowie cover band from PA to come up to the middle of ‘cold/muddy/still F’ing snowing spring’ VT and play for a bunch of crazy cyclists who signed up to ride in all that said cray-cray that was happening?! Who else can help raise over $10k for Little Bellas MTB Mentor program?! Who else can collaborate with sponsors and vendors, like Colavita, Garneau, and Specialized to name a few, who all love to laugh and rock it out as much as they do?!

I was gonna say how I was kind of dreading the course profile, being a flatlander hangin’ by the seashore and all, but truthfully Mike Rowell’s course rendition this year was really superb! Long, steady, and hard climbs, but not complete redline explosion type climbs. And, with some of Mother Nature’s help; provided just enough ice/snow/mud to keep this ‘mudder’ happy and sunshine to soothe my Vitamin D deficient soul.

I was gonna write up how all the volunteers went out of their way to make sure the riders were safe at dangerous intersections. That they were cheering and supporting their heads and yellow monster foam fingers off. That they were feeding and fueling us with maple and chocolate covered bacon for those that can eat it.  That they were hydrating us with bourbon....errr I mean necessary warming beverages to survive the elements.

I was gonna write that I was gonna beg my Teachers to update the grade that I received at the School of Rock & Gravel from F: For a F’kin’ awesome event to an A b/c of my Aero ‘I woke up like this’ hair pointers that Ali Tekrick took note of. Maybe, I could chat with Superintendent Carrie of the Village Sports Shop School District long enough and she would maybe give me a B(eer). But, I may have to warn her to beware of Prof. Powers. Dude takes others hard earned grades (or pizzas) and let’s others have them!

I was gonna write about riders who portrayed compassion, caring, and level headedness; who stopped their rides in some of the most challenging conditions, in some of the most remote spots on course, to take care of other riders, who either needed mechanical or medical assistance.

I really wanted to write about how many women I saw on course.  I tried to give as many of them as I could, words of encouragement while riding near them! While our ratio of 196 F to 1036 M riders may not seem like much, being close to 20% of the field is a promising sign that we are slowly getting #moregirlsonbikes in the middle of mud season in NEK VT. I was gonna say that it was refreshing to see so many returning faces, but encouraging to see so many more new ones rockin’ it out there on course!

I was gonna write that this year’s Rasputitsa outdid the other three renditions that I have taken a part of and you are truly missing one hell of a show/event if you don’t go to the next ride/race/party.
But no; I’m not gonna write about all THAT.

What I am going to write about how this past weekend at Rasputitsa, I hugged SO.MANY.FRIENDS!
New and old; ya’ll got a solid big ‘ole hug!

To know me, is to know that I love supporting rad people, help out others when I can, and lend words of empowerment ‘n encouragement in any way possible. I try to smile as bright as I dress, laugh from my stomach and the bottom of my lungs, and if I know you well enough, count on a full and hardy hug!

It felt so damn good to see familiar faces that I usually don’t see ‘til CX season commences! It was also freaking awesome to reconnect with some of the strong and inspiring Bittersweet Women, who I felt lucky to make connections with over a kickin’ winter weekend! Those bonds are so good, seriously! And, I am pretty sure I hugged you ALL!

This is what events like Rasputitsa bring out. They bring out amazing people, a caring/welcoming community, and the real me. This is where I feel the most comfortable, surrounded by other passionate (albeit a bit crazy at times) friends, who happen to share the same fun addiction to adventures via bikes that I do. This is the essence of the Rasputitsa. And, THIS is why I keep coming back.

So here is my official Rasputitsa race report--
Thank you to all of the Rasputitsa-ians: Anthony and Heidi, the Rowell’s, the Pros, the Venue Hosts/Sponsors/Vendors/Charities, the Volunteers, the First Responders, the Towns that we rode through, the Spectators cheering on random desolate roads, the Kids with foam fingers, the talented Photographers, to my Wife for support/grit/love, and to all of the Riders.

Most of all; THANK YOU for all of the Hugs!

Photo Cred: Kevin Hatt

Photo Cred: Katie Busick

Photo Cred: Kevin Hatt

Photo Cred: Lindsey Wolfe

Photo Cred: Katie Busick

Photo Cred: Katie Busick

Photo Cred: Meg McMahon

(Bitter)Sweetness

bittersweet
noun  bit·ter·sweet  \ ˈbi-tər-ˌswēt \

Definition of bittersweet
1 : something that is bittersweet; especially : pleasure accompanied by suffering or regret

Winter in New England is a fickle, frustrating mother of a beast at times. She can be kind, beautiful, and peacefully filled with warmth. Other times she is miserably mean, ugly, and agitatedly throwing any blisteringly cold weather event at you, seeing how much longer you can grit your teeth and bare it. When it is a mixed bag of whatever Mother Nature can toss your way, you begin looking for outlets that feed your inner fire, to keep you going.

Growing up, I swear I was born with planks on my feet and combo that with being from the Berkshires in Western MA, as well as growing up on a 85-acre horse farm, I always made the best of winter, whether it was sledding, downhill skiing, snowboarding, horse sleigh rides, etc. It was fun and it never bothered me. However, I’ll be honest, as I have gotten older, I have struggled in the winter at times. Who knows the reasons as to why. Yet, I know once I get bundled to deal with the elements, I usually have a decent time once I cross past the threshold of my back door.

So when Heidi Myers of Rasputitsa fame posted about a possible NEK VT winter womens weekend, it was like Jim Cantore Weather Channel level thundersnow excitement on my end. It was the white lightening bolt of energy I needed in the upcoming grey winter days.

As the days prior to registration crept by, little tantalizing tidbits of what was going to be offered, kept popping up, such as it being hosted at the Northwoods Stewardship Center in East Charleston, VT, with some amazing sponsors and volunteers from Little Bellas, Colavita, Louis Garneau, Specialized, The Alchemist, and Craftsbury General Store to name a few. Numerous winter activities looked to be on the docket, with a good spattering of indoor activities mixed in because we were in VT at the beginning of Feb and it can *sometimes* be cold, along with workshop type sessions. Holy Smokes Wonder Woman: It was going to be epic!!!

Thanksgiving morning came and I had my computer ready to register well before the 8am opening, for there were only 50 entries and I wanted to ensure that we would get into what I knew would be a one in a lifetime type experience. I lucky was able to coax Kristen into signing up for it as well, for I knew it would be something she would not want to miss.

And now here I am, the BitterSweet Womens Weekend has come and gone….

What can I say about it?

Strong

Fierce

Engaging

Fun

Intense

Passionate

Comfortable

Impressive

Humbling

Cool

Empowering

Athletic

Spirited

Challenging

Deep

Sharing

Growing

Knowledgeable

Enjoyable

Tenacious

Meaningful

Thankful

Gutsy

Rockin’

Creative

Feisty

Invigorating

Powerful

Collaborative

Relaxed

Grateful

Connective

Hopeful

Bittersweet Women’s Weekend gave me hope. As I meandered through the events and involved myself in the activities, I noticed that there was not an ounce of “suffering or regret” on a single face, regardless of the outside conditions. Only that of pleasure could be seen gracing the amazing faces of the women present.

I watched this weekend empower women from all ages and walks of life, to come together and to have fun. To be their amazing athletic selves, in a space that they were comfortable with. I watched women challenge themselves in new events/skills, myself included, and I watched the smiles spread and heard laughter roaring from all over the campus. We all took part in meaningful and heartfelt conversations on how to involve more women and to grow our numbers in the different activities we each partake in. Where there were questions; there was help and answers. Where there were inquiries; there was engaged and welcoming feedback. Where there was tentativity; there was overwhelming support. Where there was a high five; there usually was a hug that followed.  

Enough thanks cannot be said to all the amazing volunteers and women who helped make this weekend possible. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you and owe you a debt of gratitude for making this weekend be out of this world, not only for myself but for all who were there.

Bittersweet Women’s Weekend was refreshing and I hope this excitement continues forward. For where there are women, there is strength and unlimited desire. And when we come together in numbers, there is no telling what we can accomplish.