Finally, something totally not bike related. Some of the people I work with were involved with the injured mama and baby humpback whales who made their way up the Sacramento River last month (and finally made it safely back out to sea!). Alas, I was not called upon to map the whales' progress.
A good reminder that heaven is the lingering scent of salt water on your skin.
Showed up for my second night of track racing yesterday. I thought I'd be far better off than when my head and lungs were under siege by the phlegm goblins 2 weeks ago. I had great energy, warmed up well, and most importantly I had the vision in my head of kicking some ass, until....
....the chicks in the pack took off like starving cheetahs after a baby gazelle on the very first lap of the night. Have you ever seen your life happen in slooooow motion....you see it happening right in front of you and it's kind of an out-of-body experience where you're looking at it like, "Hmmmmm...this can't really be happening, but I guess it is....and there's no way I can stop it....whoa....this really sucks". Yeah watching those skin suits take off and me and my bike basically standing in place was a lot like that. "They're 3 meters away....now they're 10 meters away....wow look there they go.....now they're 100 meters away....holy shit how did they get all the way over there?"
I ended up riding the rest of that 8-lap tempo by myself watching my heart rate beep those Zone 5 numbers out in a steady rhythm. As I cooled down it was very weird having to rationalize what just happened. I don't have a cold any more....I've been riding....I was beating these girls just 3 months ago....last year when I came back after being sick I clobbered everyone. WTF? The rational me said that tonight there are two Cat 2s, two Cat 3s, and the "elite 4s", all of whom have been racing non stop since March. They were all hellbent on getting their upgrade points and running everyone else into the ground. That could be why, but......I'm supposed to have super powers, dammit!!!
The next 2 races were much of the same. The pretty skinsuits took off in slow motion.....I dropped anchor and watched them from the other side of the track. In the last race, a 4x4, I finally pulled up track and just let them come underneath me so I could catch on the last few laps and not have to suffer the indignity of being alone. I was LAPPED. I've never been lapped. I'm the one who's supposed to be up front winning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Each time I came back to the infield I texted Jane, "DFL!", then "DFL again!". At least I could see a little humour in things. The other girls were really sweet and kept saying that I'd be back in condition in a few weeks and they've all been through it before, you just have to be patient. Hopefully this patience pulls through before I decide to sell all my gear and move to the mountains with my goats and green roof.
My lungs still hurt today. I rode to work and was pooped. I wisely decided not to do the stage race this weekend. I'll take any dosages of humiliation more locally, plus my "racing into shape" theory isn't the smartest thing I could do. I talked to Dr. Peter this morning and he said not to go all out with the racing now that I feel better, but to gradually get back into intervals and listen to my body and watch for signs of getting sick. Sounds like a good excuse to eat, ride, and drink a lot of wine this weekend. Antioxidants, you know.
A bunch of us Starbuckies went down to the Ballard Crit yesterday to watch the races in the rain and revel in not racing by enjoying a few liters of wine. Some girls spent $$ in Portalis while I enjoyed my street-value wine in a pink nalgene bottle. Not only was it way cheaper than a fancy wine bar, but oh so portable.
Now that I'm supposedly clear to begin racing again, I joined a few others on a ride today through Redmond and the Carnation Valley to check out my fitness. They coaxed me into the ride by saying it would be a nice Zone 3 tempo ride, but evidently my teammates are LIARS because the only time I stayed in Zone 3 was while leaving the Marymoor parking lot. Overall it was a good reminder that I can't eat a full plate of pancakes an hour before an intense ride (yes I kept it all down, thank you), and that I've got to keep the gluten and wheat at bay less it trigger my asthma. My hill prowess is notably gone and the legs felt like lead, but it was a good shakedown before the Methow Valley races next weekend that I've talked myself into doing. Going to test this "racing yourself back into shape" theory and finally pop my criterium cherry (That's right, my first one. As if you didn't already know, Cat 4 racers with brakes TERRIFY me. If you see me there, pat me on the head and please stay a mimimum 10 ft away, for both my safety and yours). I haven't done a ride over 30 miles in 2 months, let alone with climbs or at race pace, but at least it's beautiful out there and I'll be able to chat with the cows at my leisure without worrying about taking down the pack.
So pos-i-tive!! But I find that when you go in with zero expectations you can only be surprised by what you can actually accomplish.
My baby came back to the States for a few weeks and it was pure heaven to have him back. My parents came to town for a few days also and met him for the first time. My mom later wrote to me that he's "a fine young man, and cute too!!!" Yes, that's my mom using 3 exclamation points. I don't know whether to be flattered or grossed out.
I've had May 30th on my calendar for the past 2 months since this whole EBV came back to put a wrench in my life again. May 30 would be my return to racing and my first Wed night racing at the track as a Cat 3 (oooooh!!). However, whilst having a Zack-tacular time in Santa Fe doing some high altitude training and green chili tasting, I managed to come down with a nasty head cold/flu thing that beat me down quickly and rendered me a giant fleshy wasteland of phlegm. But being as stubborn as I am, I wouldn't let this bug keep me from showing up and fulfilling my goal. Plus my parents and Zack were in town and I had to show them that I really do know how to ride a bike fast-ish.
So between hacking and farmer snotting in the infield and along the banks, many friends welcomed me back to racing, which was a sweet sweet feeling. The girls that I race with are such a good group. Everyone supports each other and is happy to see you at the races. However, just throwing my leg over the bike I could tell that my energy just wasn't there. No zip to be had, but I figured I just needed to warm up. After a few dozen laps I could tell that this cold was having a bigger impact on my health than I thought. Lungs are generally a useful tool when it comes to breathing hard, but they were full of the goo that was previously up in my head and my energy was still tapped. Well I paid my $15 so what the hell. I figured I'd do as Tamara says and just learn one good thing each race.
There were 3 great races - an 8-lap scratch, a 2-lap scratch heat, and a 4x4 snowball. In each one I pretty much finished DFL, "mostly" on purpose. No use in throwing it all out there when I wasn't up to it. I learned a lot, including that hucking loogies and hacking up a lung is a great distraction on your competition.
My prince did want me to test out my high altitude training and talked me into giving it all just once to see what I could do. He has a great way of reminding me that I have more energy than I think I do (sucker!). So in the first bell lap on the 4x4 I saw that no one was surging forward, so I attacked on the bell and expected a squadron of girls behind me, but all of a sudden I was totally alone and no one was near me. I have no idea how that happened other than they let me go out of sheer pity. But even more, it absolutely crushed my system and I was a sad little puppy following them the remaining 12 laps. So this is what it's like to totally suck!!
It was a great pack of girls, including a few 2s, 3s, and 4s. I figure if I could hang with them while hacking disease all over the track I could be ok with them when I'm healthy. June 6 is on my calendar.
Not since seeing the Vagina Monologues have I ever become as well educated on the travesties of women's hoohoos as I have since being on a women's cycling team. Over the winter there was minor talk here and there about the discomfort that comes with endless miles, but that was all eclipsed by the eye openers at the Walla Walla stage race last month. After the first day of racing, one of our racers had such an injured hoohoo that she had to shove a bag of ice down her pants to relieve the pain and swelling of her precious jewels (oh if I only had a picture of that today!). She iced it again the next morning before the crit, but was only able to do a few laps of the race until her hoohoo cried uncle. All the teammates offered their advice and suggestions, but it was too late, no amount of lube or ice was going to make that hoohoo happy again.
The weird thing is these aren't novice bike riders here, each woman has tens of thousands of miles under her spandex, but they still experience the pain every female cyclist can relate to: the swelling, the numbness, the not-so-pleasurable sensation of pressure in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sure the "anatomical" saddles provide relief for a small number of the population, but get real, sometimes they act more like a cheese slicer. Give me my Brooks any day.
What is it that causes such torture? My first guess would be bike fit. If your pelvis is at the wrong angle it can put too much pressure on your hoohoo (this is what we're thinking happened at Walla Walla, she'd had a new bike fit a few weeks before). Second would be the saddle type and position. Most women think the cushier the saddle, the better, but actually it's the opposite. A firmer saddle will support the seat bones properly (ever wonder why Brooks are so popular?). That's where the weight and pressure should be, not on the jewels. With a cushier saddle, your seat bones will melt into its gel or foam and put increased pressure on the exact place you're trying to protect. I recently bought the Specialized Women's Jett saddle and it was a revelation in new seat technology. It's a fancy carbon and ti saddle, but very solid and with 3 different widths to choose from to support those different ancestral-cursed seat bones. For the first time, I think someone actually designed an anatomical seat properly. It perfectly supported my seat bones only, and not the delicate tidbits in between.
Some racers will say the hoohoo issue just comes with the territory and it makes you tougher. One local chickee calls her "the leather labia." OUCH. In the movie "2 Seconds" you get an idea of how it feels to do a few hundred miles and be so numb that nothing your partner does in bed will bring the poor nubben back to life.
And so the adventure continues for women who love bikes a little too much. We ride, we race, we endure.
That's my favorite team name so far in the Group Death Bike to Work Challenge. I only wish I had thought of something so crafty before typing in my rather unoriginal Solo team name. "An Inconvenient Commute" was in the running for my favorite team name also, but then I scrolled to the very bottom of the list and found the above gem.
We have a bunch of people at work participating in the contest this month, including about 4 in our office (and me!) who were too lazy to email each other to form a unified team. So we're doing the Solo category just to sound so much more hard core and most importantly, to keep better tabs on the competition down the hall. We have a rather cutthroat group when it comes to bragging rights. The Battle in Seattle is going down at Sandpoint, pansies!
Last week a daring group of American protesters from Students for a Free Tibet unfurled a banner at the Everest Base Camp in Tibet reading "One World, One Dream, Free Tibet 2008, " mocking China's 2008 Olympics slogan, "One World, One Dream". They timed their protest for when China was to announce the itinerary for the torch relay, which includes an attempt to take it up Mt. Everest and through Tibet. At the time of the protest, there were about 70 Chinese climbers at base camp organizing a recon to see if this kind of attempt is feasible. The protesters were detained about 30 minutes into the protest and taken into custody by Chinese officials. Their whereabouts were unknown until they were released 2 days later in Tibet. They eventually made their way to Kathmandu and their story has helped bring more exposure towards China's politicizing of the Olympics, their well documented human rights violations, as well as their occupation of Tibet.
When it was announced in 2001 that Beijing would host the 2008 Olympics, I was infuriated that a country with so little regard for human life or cultural freedom would be rewarded for their actions with the highest award in sports. To me and most of the world the Olympics symbolize honor, dedication, self-sacrifice, dreams, and love - characteristics not congruent with a country that has denied its oppression and occupation of Tibet for over 50 years, let alone a country that epitomizes "One World, One Dream".
But now, just more than a year away from the Games, I can see that the limelight China has invited upon itself could bring them unprecedented, unwanted publicity highlighting their environmental and political atrocities. Wheat anyone? How about some rice flour? Tested your salmon for Chinese PCBs lately? Genocide ok with you? It used to be that countries would exercise their right to boycott the Olympics to put political pressure on the host country or to make a bold statement, but they've been pretty inactive of late. One of the French presidential candidates has said if elected he will boycott the Olympics in protest of China's backing of Sudan's role in Dafur. Only pressure from a number of powerful countries, particularly those with strong economic ties, will begin to etch away at how this country is run. I know our country is at the bottom of a number of popularity contests, but our citizens have spoken - and are allowed to speak for that matter - and change is coming more swiftly than could happen in less free countries. I know our country has untold blemishes of its own as it became a leader in the world, but we've also learned from our wrongdoings and owe it to the future to prevent such crimes again.
This next year leading up to the Olympics and the fallout afterwards could mark a historical change in the world. Stay tuned.
Oh, and I want my damn Game Over, Free Tibet 2008 stickers! I ordered them months ago and although the tracking number says they were delivered, they never made it into my mailbox. I've never not gotten any mail. Freedom, right?
My dad, ever on the pulse of the fixie nation, sent me this article and slideshow about fixies and track bikes in NYC. It's a pretty fun, non-elitist representation of the culture that surrounds these bikes and how it encompasses messengers, track racers, and those who just want to get from point A to point B. I don't have a problem with anyone glomming onto the fixed gear wave if it makes them enjoy riding more and get into the habit of commuting. But if you're shallow enough to treat it like a shiny new toy and then quickly toss it aside in favor of another new shiny object, I'll thank you for your participation and see you on Ebay.
Yesterday I saw my naturopath who is puzzled that I'm not bouncing back faster despite all the bells and whistles I'm taking. She poked my rump with my weekly vitamin cocktail with an added dose of Vitamin C, which made it sting a hell of a lot more. It took a good minute for her to stop and go and inject the syringe full of Vitamin B and C, zinc, and other goodness. When it was over I couldn't walk without limping and couldn't sit back in my car seat or chair at work. When I looked in the mirror last night I had a huge 3" welt that hurt like hell. Great, I probably have some infection from all the injections like Anna Nicole Smith did and they'll find me dead in the morning of some septic disease.
I woke up in one piece and the welt was gone and my bum not so sore.
The sun was out and Jane called to drag my ass out for an hour. It turned out to be some much needed Vitamin D time. We met at her house on Cappy Hill and drove - yes drove - down to Leschi where we unpacked the bikes and rode down to Seward and back. An hour of lazy Zone 1 that was plenty exertion for me and I was happy to have her taxi drive me back up the hill. Pitiful.
On the drive down to Leschi we followed behind 2 riders, the woman in back was wearing a spiffy black Ibex wool jersey. When it was time to pass them I noticed is was Lt. Sean in the lead on his red CoMotion, Kira, (update your blog, asshat!!) so I rolled down the window and told him to get his lazy ass moving. Sean is an old skool wool aficionado like me so it made sense that I was coveting his wife's sweet wool jersey. It was nice to see him out and Soo on her new bike. I hear she's doing STP this year, her longest bike ride ever. Good luck Soo!
An old friend from the Midwest territories got in touch with me yesterday. We started racing track around the same time and both discovered the astounding success in boob reduction as related to racing fast in small circles. She's looking forward to their spring migration as their region thaws out (no thanks!) and race season begins. May we all have a summer collection of smaller brassieres to air out in the warm sun!
I just talked to Peter from Inewmed about how I've been doing on my magical tea and to set up an appointment for our next wave of strategy. He apologized for being so busy because he's been dealing with the guys who just finished the Tour of Georgia and they're whining that they aren't super human. I'm working with someone who is the doctor for Pros who race the Tour of Georgia. Someone pinch me. No, actually, just fix me. He said he actually expected me to feel more wiped out while on the tea and that I'd be feeling stronger 2 weeks afterwards as my body expels the virus and my body becomes itself again. Sounds exciting to me, something to look forward to!! Until then, more rest and recovery.
One of my teammates was diagnosed with Epstein-Barr today (no I didn't give it to her). At least now she knows why she's been sleeping so much, can't muster the energy to make her kids pb&j, or drag herself to the gym. I'm so tired of this stupid effing virus mucking up people's lives!!! Go away you stupid virus!!!! We want to run and play and ride bikes, dammit!!!!
If only this was on par with erectile dysfunction then we'd have a bloody vaccination yesterday and I'd be hitting the track every pretty spring day to ride around in circles. But no, chronic fatigue just isn't as sexy as Bob Dole not being able to get it up. Pricks.
I spent 3 great days with the team over in Walla Walla for the big stage race. Still no racing for me so I signed on as the head cowbell ringer and chief jock strap (team supporter, fyi). What I thought would be a leisurely 3 days in wine country watching hot boys and girls race really fast turned into a jam-packed weekend of changing tires, fixing brakes, fetching bottles, clangclangclanging the cowbell, losing my voice from screaming, shopping for food, making dinner, and keeping a team of women strong and happy (not that they need much work there). It was a blast, but damn I was pooped. So much for hanging out on the beach like my doctor wanted me to. We rented a really plush house that came with a hot tub and I didn't get a soak until Sunday when everything was over! We did crack open a few bottles of the house wine, which was a plus. And the couch I claimed was exquisitely soft and comfy.
The caliber of racing was taken up a few notches and we all learned a lot, even from the sidelines. One of the best parts was watching our coach Kele spank the competition in the Pro-1-2-3 criterium. To watch a person you know with that much strength, speed, and endurance fly right by you is remarkable. And on top of that, she's able to goof off in the middle of the pack during the road race to wave to us jock straps as we clanged and screamed and waved like complete idiots along the side of the road in the middle of no where. Who said pros don't know how to have fun?
All pics here.
Lounging around the house in my wool knickers I discovered kindred spirits over at Belgian Knee Warmers with a new post about the virtues of steel frames and how they may be "discovered" by the masses as "the new black." Maybe then there will be one less carbon paper frame in the Cat 4 races. As one commenter posted, "The only thing you do like a Pro is piss." [snap!!]
And if one more ignorant aluminum/carbon paper squiddy jackass makes a comment about my Serotta I'll mention this:
"In the 1980s, when 7-Eleven first entered the Euro peloton, they rode frames made by Serotta. Later, team management signed Huffy as a sponsor, but Serotta continued to supply the frames, which was a lot like putting a Ford decal on a Ferrari. 7-Eleven was riding what was easily one of the best bikes available."
Hidden underneath that layer of filth that is the corporate bicycle marketing machine lies the true wonder of handcrafted artistry. Steel machines that have a soul, made with a framemaker's love, and born to transmit unimagined energy through you to the bike and to the road. I can't wait to get well again so my Serotta and I can go to the lineup and get ready to kick some more carbon paper ass.
I finally got my delivery of chinese herbal extracts that my new Inewmed doctor ordered from this pharmacy in New York City. However, no where does it explain exactly what it is that I'm drinking, so my friends and I have come up with some ideas about the contents:
1) These chinese herbal pharmacists have a stable of magical dragons and they make compost out of the dragon's poop and use the compost tea as an herbal remedy. The magical dragons are very strong, friendly and helpful, hence their poop compost is equally beneficial.
2) It's actually a mix of anabolic steroids, human growth hormone, and meth (only in trace amounts). Yum! I'll take some extra dragon poo, thanks!
Either way, I felt better today than I have in weeks. I'm hoping that my super powers are making their way back home. 2 days of Magical Dragon Poo Tea down, 12 to go.
Update: Cameron @ BikeSeattle.org did the Google search I was afraid to do and found an article on Kamwo on CNN.com. Lizards? Ewwwwww!!
I thumbed my nose at the world and rode my bike today. It was either get out and ride or stay in my pjs until tomorrow and become consumed by depression. I wasn't feeling particularly tired from the EBV and yesterday I rode (ah yeah, another thumbing) and felt fine (hey it was 79F and sunny, can you blame me?). So I pulled on the wool and pulled out the steel and made my way out to my pedicure appointment (pretty toes are also a prescription for lifting one's spirits). What would I have missed if I'd been stuck in a car?
- Feeling the humidity in the air and having to pull off my arm warmers
- The new fuschia colored cherry blossoms blooming in Fremont and Greenlake
- Seeing Lee on his bike and waving hello
- Hearing the dogs bark as they played with their owners
- Feeling the sun on my face as the skies cleared on the way home
Provided I have the energy, I'm finding that strictly staying in Zone 1 is doable. It completely goes against my nature to go fast until it hurts and then some, but I'm making a game of it. While Kele says, "I want old grandmothers to pass you", I find it more fun to imagine that I have a gizmo implanted in my chest like the Others did to Sawyer on Lost, and if I go above Zone 1 the gizmo will fire off and I'll be killed instantly. Makes for an interesting romp around town and a way to entertain my short attention span. Going up Stone Way tested the Zone 1 theory and the gizmo went off a few times (luckily no fatalities). I promise I won't go overboard with riding, but I have to move a little. After all, if I was laying on a beach in Maui like my doctor wishes I could be for the next 2 weeks, I'd still get up and walk the beach.
My Epstein-Barr is back. Hell if I didn't think I had it under control and was doing everything perfectly to avoid its return. But I guess the 2 weeks of chaos at work and poor sleep that resulted really tipped the scales and let the virus take hold again. I knew I was feeling tired last week and didn't ride or workout much, but I hoped it was just simple recovery from the stress at work. At the final Tour de Dung I could feel I was being taxed even more, and I didn't have the energy to fight onto that last breakaway and could barely hold on to the paceline I was in. I was shaking with chills after the race and the whole way home. I couldn't eat. Just collapsed and slept when I got home. Not a good sign.
The rest of this week has been more lethargy and sleep. I commuted to work one day all Zone 1, but by the end of the day I was wasted. Today I had to leave work early I was so useless. Seems like it's getting a little worse every day.
The small light on the horizon is that I saw a doctor at Inewmed yesterday. They specialize in sports medicine and Eastern medicine and have a bevy of well known athletes as their patients. The good news is that about 10% of their patients have EBV so they're pretty savvy on its treatment. In fact, George Hincapie is one of their success stories. So as Jane says, "If they're good enough for George, they're almost good enough for you." They ordered me some magic potions that I'll get next week and start a 2 week therapy session. Then it will be follow ups and more acupuncture. No timeline for full recovery though.
Added bummer is that I have to take it really easy the next 2-3 weeks (like I have a choice), which means that I'll miss Walla Walla. I was really looking forward to our team's first stage race of the season. Riding with this team has been so inspiring and has really shown me what the word "team work" is all about. Just when things were starting to click.....poof. So I'll join the team at Walla Walla for jock strap and cowbell duties and have the easy job of screaming for them to get their asses moving. I'm hoping by May that I'll have my own ass out there moving too.
My friend Mary had to put her sweet girl, Izzy, down this weekend. It might have been from complications from Cushings disease that she was diagnosed with last summer, although her health had otherwise been fine since then. But sadly her health deteriorated quickly last Thursday and by Friday night she couldn't hold down water and was losing a lot of blood. The emergency vets tried to stabilize her, but her organs were failing, ketoacidosis was poisoning her. Mary talked to Izzy's vet and made the hardest decision of her life. Izzy didn't show signs of wanting to give up. She lifted her paw, wagged her tail, and gave Mary kisses. She was the sweetest friend and companion anyone could have. She loved cheese and sauteed spinach, going on hikes and playing in the snow. She greeted Mary every day when she'd get home from work and bark and bark to tell her how the day was in the backyard and how many birds she scared off. They had each other for almost 12 years and were inseparable.
I hope little Izzy is taking endless hikes and eating endless nibbles of cheese. I hope she looks after her mom up in heaven because she's a very sad girl right now. I'll miss you too Izzy.
I now have no more delusions about how silly hard road racing is. We finished the Tour de Dung series in Sequim today and all 36 miles were not just spent racing at ludicrous speed, but at fucking stupid ludicrous speed. 25...26...27...28 mph...sure who's counting? And this is Cat 4? What do they do in Cat 123? Whip out switchblades?
This morning's original neurosis about my brand new tubulars peeling off their rims in the first turn was quickly replaced by anxiety that I'd go into cardiac arrest. The previous 2 races had been rather enjoyable with a nice field sprint at the finish that I could handle. But today it was out of the gates fast and take no prisoners. At the start of the 3rd lap a breakaway group with the series leader and a few other contenders took off. Jane and Zana were in position to go with them, but I was a hair off in position and tried to bridge the gap up to them, but it wasn't in me. The last 2 weeks of stress and exhaustion had taken its toll. As I waved them goodbye up the first small hill, an angel dressed in orange and blue came up beside me and said, "Come on let's go get them!". She pulled me up and let me get my strength back. The lead group was quickly out of sight so it was just a matter of perseverance and not getting caught by the others behind us. We switched off and on the next 12 miles, along with another straggler we picked up. The headwinds were an added insult on top of my exhaustion, and if it weren't for these 2 others I would have layed down in a ditch and died. By the 1km mark, the other (obviously new) girl had been leading for a while with no sign of letting up. Fine by us. The angel and I sucked her wheel, and at the 200m mark, we went around her towards the finish. I let my angel take finish line before me, because it was her hard work and kind words that had helped me get there.
I finished 12th in the race and 5th overall in the series and won a pair of new gloves to boot. Unfortunately I can feel my EBV rearing its ugly head so I need to do some serious recovery and TLC before I can race again. An emergency shipment of Vitamin Z would do me even better.
