Redemption

On Sunday six of us fine ladies drove up to Everett for the Frostbite Time Trial. I originally had no plan to participate in something as mind numbing as a time trial. It's like riding your trainer. But with scenery. Yawn. But then I saw that the organizer was having a "Retro" division for those without delicate foo-foo aero bikes, sperm helmets, aero bars, or any other go-fast toys. "Hell yeah!" I said to no one but my fleet of steel bikes. This category was made just for me. I'd strut to the start with my steel Serotta, wool knickers, wool jersey, "your bike sucks" socks, and they'd practically have to hand over the first place winnings to me right there.

The morning was your typical cold, intermittent rainy February day. Our team put up the tent and we positioned our bikes on their trainers so we could have a place to congregate and warm up. One other teammate was in the Retro division with me, but the other girls were armed with their slick carbon fiber go-fast machines that looked like something out of Aeon Flux. One junior came over and was checking out my bike. "Wow, that's vintage. My dad has a bike like that from back in the 80s." If that little punk wasn't so adored by the local cycling scene I would have pounded his 10 year old ass into the ground. "It's only from 1996!" I yelled back. Then I realized, that little punk wasn't even born when Ben Serotta was crafting my frame. Fine. Let him gaze in wonderment. My steel frame and I were out to kick some carbon fiber butt today.

I threw my leg over my bike and started to warm up with a high spin. I plugged in the Ipod, put my head down, and cranked Rollins' Hard Volume at full volume. Nothing in the world gets me as pumped for kicking ass like listening to old Hank bellowing from my headphones. Search and Destroy.

The other girls quickly rolled out to the start one after the other. I was the last to go and had enough time before my start to get some beta from Jane after she got back. "There's a headwind on the way out, so go out like hell because that's where everyone else will relax. Then crank it with the tailwind on the way back." I wandered down to the start line and met another woman in stars in stripes who offered me the same advice. Our captain came over to offer encouragement and last minute advice. "Start in a power stance. Go like hell. Get something angry in your head. Turn your cap around so it doesn't catch the wind." We also learned that she had beaten Jane by 1 second. ONE SECOND. The egging over that 1 second will last until long after this day has ended. It also reinforced that in a time trial, there is no opportunity to slack or flake out. It's total concentration and 110%, lest a rival takes advantage of your weakness and takes 1 second from you.

Thirty seconds....fifteen seconds....five...four...three...two...one....GO! I charged out of the holder's hands and cranked it for as long as I could and then settled down into a steady groove. Jane was right, there was a headwind. I watched my speed gradually tick slower and slower. 17mph. Crap! No! I couldn't drop to 17. I tried shifting to spin more smoothly and get up to 18, but nothing worked to get it back up. The wind had to let me go. It finally did around a bend and I saw my speed increase by small increments. Cars whizzed by, I tried to keep my heavy breathing steady, I watched the mileage slip by. I felt strong, I was pushing myself, I had nothing to lose and it would be over soon enough so I'd better make myself suffer. Soon I was at the orange cone turnaround and I made it around without going off the road into a ditch. My spirits lifted and I cranked it back towards home knowing there would be a tailwind to carry me towards the finish.

I clicked my rear derailleur onto smaller and smaller cogs and I felt my legs take their power and transfer it into pure speed. I was deep in the drops watching my speed hold steady at 23mph and my HRM reaching further towards the top of Zone 4. Damn, I haven't done this kind of work since the last CX race. Good thing Kele's off in Manchester so she doesn't know! The half-miles ticked away and up ahead I saw the orange flags demarcating the final 200 meters. That's it! I cranked it, I pushed it, I gasped for more air. I kept thinking of that 1 second and knew there was no way I could let someone beat me by 1 second without giving everything I had. My upper body bobbed and swayed as I pushed my legs and bike forward, harder than they thought they could go the last weekend of February. I zipped over the finish line and looked at my speed: 25mph. My heart rate was waaaaaaaaaay into the hallowed ground of Zone 5. My brain was so anoxic I couldn't remember if I was on a track bike or road bike and if I could stop pedaling after the finish line. "Screw it," I thought, "I wanna stop pedaling and if I crash I really don't care...." Thankfully it turns out I was on a road bike and I didn't wipe out in an unglamorous, uncoordinated heap.

Back at the tent we all regaled our rides and laughed at how much we suffered and what inane thoughts crossed our minds while going so hard. We were covered in wet road slop from all the rain and our bikes looked like they'd been through a CX race. I was totally high from the speed and endorphins and said with wide eyes that I want to try a fasssssssst bike! The feeling of hurtling through space must be very similar. We compared times and it turned out that my winning Retro time was only a minute behind my teammates with their aero gear. This left all of us pretty impressed by my simple achievement on an 11 year old steel bike. I was so proud of my bike. It was fast, it was smooth, it was stealth, we made a great team. I knew this would be a good season to come, and on a vintage bike to boot.

Smells like fish poo

I often have dreams about my plants in which they bombard me for requests to be watered or to be moved around or to have their leaves trimmed, or more recently, for some yummy new fertilizer. I'd had it in the back of my mind to eventually get them some Alaskan liquid fish fertilizer that someone highly recommended to me a few years ago, but it was the middle of winter and they're supposed to be nice, quiet dormant plants. Easily guilt-ridden by all things phototrophic, I got on my bike for a trip to the Fred Meyer, where I found a huge container of the Alaskan goo.

At home I prepared lunch for all my plant friends. What a treat they had in store! Even though they ordinarily shouldn't be fertilized in the winter, I figured they were sending me a message while I slept that they were hungry and ready for spring as much as I was. I don't know what roses I was expecting to emanate from a bottle of fish shit, but I had to clear my head a few times as the fumes diffused into the air and quickly turned my kitchen something reminiscent of Nemo's outhouse. I stuck with the process and fed all my little friends knowing that they'd be happy and for that I would gladly put up with a little stench.

Only a day or two later I could instantly see a difference! Their green leaves glowed a little brighter and they puffed out with newly found strength. Best of all was Zack's amaryllis began to awake from dormancy and its little bulb shot a stem straight up towards the moon. Now a few weeks later, it's about to bloom and brighten the gray days with its brilliant red plumage.

How I really feel

After my dismal performance at our team's Mason Lake training ride yesterday, I had a weekend-long pity party that included 2 pints of Ben and Jerry's (no, not at once), a new pair of Ibex wool knickers that I've been eyeing for almost 2 years, and these socks, which I've been hunting for since last summer (but have been too lazy to order on line). When I line up at the first race at Mason Lake in 3 weeks I'll be tricked out with my new knickers, these socks, and the only 10-year old steel frame with a WSBA number on it. I don't need a carbon fiber frame to show what I can do. Once my coach let's go of my leash I'll start ramping up and kicking ass again on the same kind of frames they rode in the peloton just 20 years ago. Kiss my old skool ass, bitches!!

David Horsey for mayor

(Am I the only one who thinks of Jabba when I see Greg Nickels?)

First road race dream

Last night we had our monthly team meeting and this one focused on prepping and strategy for the upcoming Mason Lake race in March. Everyone talked about how when they were new they'd be "blown off the back" their first few races, and some talked about their goals of just "finishing with the pack." Ok that's setting up some confidence. I've done plenty of track and CX races around here, but no road races so I have no way to judge how fast it will be or how I'll measure up to the other girls in the pack. For now my goal is not to go home in an ambulance.

So last night I had a dream about the Mason Lake race. I lined up at the front with the huge pack of girls. Our squiddy friend, Stanglor, was also in the line-up. Turns out in my dreams he races with the Cat 4 women to challenge himself (although in real life he plays a Cat 1-2). The gun went off and I sprinted to the front and held a fast pace with the lead racers. After one lap (they were only about a mile around) I gunned it again and made a solo breakaway. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I somehow had the confidence that I could hold this breakaway and not get caught. My lead kept increasing and the crowd was going nuts. After 8 laps it was time to sprint for the finish. I looked back quickly and could see a few girls and Stanglor coming up from behind to try and out sprint me, but I made it to the finish line first.

As we were waiting for the results, Stanglor was bragging about winning the race. I went up to him and said, "Um, no babe, I won the race. You weren't about to lap me, I was in front of you the whole time." He was totally shocked that a newbie first time racergirl like me could kick his ass, but I did. My teammates congratulated me on my impressive win and even Phil hobbled over to pat me on the back.

Somehow I don't see myself making a solo breakaway and tromping the field my first race. But if any guys race with us Cat 4 women I'll make sure to put them in their place.

Rainbow!

After snapping a few photos of the pretty rainbow I took my bike out to do some errands over in Ballard. Alas, as quickly as I pedaled, I did not find a pot of gold on the Ballard Bridge. Only SUVs.

for a boy

i want to ride my bike with you!!

around the block would surely do,

we could stop and watch the moon

then ride home to kiss and spoon,

i know one day it will come true.

A miracle grows in Texas

Again, just when I thought humanity - let alone the state of Texas - had nothing left to offer me, I find this:

Texas governor orders vaccine for all girls

AUSTIN, Texas -- Bypassing the Legislature altogether, Republican Gov. Rick Perry issued an order Friday making Texas the first state to require that schoolgirls get vaccinated against the sexually transmitted virus that causes cervical cancer.

By employing an executive order, Perry sidestepped opposition in the Legislature from conservatives and parents' rights groups who fear such a requirement would condone premarital sex and interfere with the way Texans raise their children.

Beginning in September 2008, girls entering the sixth grade -- meaning, generally, girls ages 11 and 12 -- will have to receive Gardasil, Merck & Co.'s new vaccine against strains of the human papillomavirus, or HPV.

If this law makes it through the weekend I'll thank my lucky Lone Stars. The vaccination would be covered by insurance and even be free for low-income families or those without insurance. Having a right-wing conservative look past his convictions to protect women from a preventable form of cancer is unprecedented. Hopefully he'll have the integrity to use his ethical reasoning to influence other conservative legislators who could make this law across the land and show that science and saving lives comes before personal religious beliefs. And having the vaccination's owner, Merck, put some extra money in their pocket never hurt a politician.

The Kitty Washing Machine

This is for The Raz. And for all you other kitty aficionados out there. Please don't try this at home.