Needing Motivation, Contemplating Change

It's not been the best of weeks for a few reasons. I have been overwhelmed at work and even skipped my Wed. cicruit class, going home at 9 that night to grab a quick bite to eat and head straight for bed. This combined with the appetite loss/nausea/headaches didn't help. I didn't work out Monday or Tuesday, and lastnight I went to spinning class. It didn't seem like a very tough workout to me. So, I'm feeling like I really need to make some changes, and one idea is to quit the gym altogether. I only re-activated my membership to go to spinning during the winter anyway, and I haven't been going that much. It's all about accountability. Go to spinning (rush to get there by 6:45pm to change, get home at 8:30 starving), or go home and ride the rollers for an hour? One is more social, one is not. I don't know. I could also change to morning cardio workouts, which would leave the evenings free for resistance workouts. I need to commit to something else, because this isn't working. I wish I could afford a full-on coach like Upper Echelon Fitness, but I will at least look into their strength training classes. Suggestions welcome. I also could PUT DOWN THE HOT TAMALES (the candy, not the Mexican food version)!

It's here!

Racing season! Not only did the Tour of California Prologue start today in Sacramento, but Portland Velo's first race is tomorrow. Good luck, everyone!

I just read an interview VeloNews did with Lance Armstrong about the Tour of California. This quote sums up his view of the race: "The guys I know are racing like it’s May."

I found some things I had written a couple of years ago on my favorite things about pro cycling. It needs a little updating, so I had to change some things, but here it is - my favorite things about pro cycling:

1. Favorite race for scenery - Giro do Lombardia ("race of the falling leaves")
2. Favorite early season one-day race - that would be a tie between the Tour of Flanders (insane climbs, horrific cold weather, crazy Belgian fans and cobblestones) and Paris Roubaix (again, cobblestones, and the finale in the Velodrome).
3. Favorite Spring classic - Milan San Remo
4. Favorite US cyclist - Levi Leipheimer. The guy just never quits and is a great all-around cyclist. Back in the Discovery days it was George Hincapie, and I also really was impressed by Christian Vande Velde's 2008 season.
5. Favorite team kit - this is a tough one. I'd have to say Astana, because I don't think any other teams in the pro peleton have the aqua blue & yellow combination. I do like Garmin's argyle, but not so sure about the blue & orange combo.
6. Favorite team director - Jonathan Vaughters - the guy just seems so cool.
7. Favorite bike - Garmin/Slipstream's Felt - but I also love CSC (oops, Saxo Bank)'s Cervelo
8. Favorite sprinter - Mark Cavendish. He is wicked fast!
9. Favorite commentator - Bob Roll. He's kind of grown on me.
10. Favorite pro cycling magazine - Cyclesport
11. Favorite cycling website - VeloNews
12. Best aerial views - Tour de France. The best way to see all the cool cycling sculptures the fans make out of hay is from the helicopter footage.

Least favorite things about pro cycling (notice there aren't as many):
1. Worst team kit - Columbia/High Road. WHY on earth did they change it? I didn't like the yellow & red, but then Columbia's blue was pretty cool. Rock Racing's black & green kit is pretty hideous too (but kinda cool in a scary sort of way). Note - it's red, black & white this year. Still bizarre.
2. Least favorite commentator - Craig Hummer. Today I actually heard him say "spite-lot" when he meant to say "spotlight". Seriously. Where is Al Trautwig when you need him? He just has a better voice. What does Craig Hummer know about cycling?
3. Commercials on Versus. These are some of the worst on television, I swear. Yay for Tivo.
4. Least favorite race - Tour of Quatar. Boring. Tour de Faso runs a close second.
5. British commentators' mangled pronunciation of US cities. Cracks me up. I would do worse to the European cities. Bob Roll has gotten pretty good with his pronunciation of French & Italian.
6. Dopers. Vinokourov, Ullrich, Basso, Ricco, Schumacher, etc. Such a shame.
7. Podium girls. What's the point of this? Some ancient cycling tradition?
8. Most hideous fans - that would have to be the summit of Alpe d'Huez, but it's a toss-up. They've gotten smarter about putting the barriers out close to the finish so there won't be as many cyclist/fan incidents.


That's all I can think of for now - but might edit more later...
Here's to a great 2009 season!

Ow.

Much better riding this weekend! Saturday was cold and foggy - one of those days when it's really tempting to pull the down comforter over my head and grab a couple more hours of sleep. But no, I had to force myself to get up, chug some coffee, and get moving. I find that driving to the ride is a good option on these days. I wasn't sure about hopping on with KRhea's 3-hour endurance-fest, but I actually did alright. Brian Collie kept encouraging me to stay in the middle of the pack, and we kept the pace up for most of the ride. Even Blooming Fern wasn't so bad though I haven't done much climbing in a while, and that bagel sandwich sure did taste good. This photo was taken towards the end of the ride (thus the smile - I'm on the right).

Yesterday - different story. Not sure if it was a wise decision but I carpooled with Matt over to Palio's to meet up with Kristin & crew for her SE ride. Advertised as "flat & conversational, easy pace" I thought sure, I can hang on with these guys. But the sea of blue & black were way ahead once we started up River Road. I talked to Lindsay for a bit, then once we got to Oregon City I fell behind as we started up 43, but Kender was nice enough to lend me his wheel. Those climbs are deceptive, he said to me later. Terwilliger wasn't much fun either, especially after I biffed trying to unclip & avoid hitting Kristin's wheel as we stopped to step over a curb. DOH! Hungry, a little sore and very tired, I went home to clean my bike, take a hot shower, eat and got in bed by a little after 9pm. Time to build up some more miles in the saddle.

winter riding

Finally I've been able to get out on a few rides - the 17th and the 24th. Saturdays is about the only time I have to ride outdoors lately, but I try and get some spinning indoors during the week. Apparently it's not enough. I was so discouraged on Saturday when I got dropped on Dairy Creek. It was sooo cold, and even snowed on me a bit. I allowed myself to pout a little bit, and was angry at myself for not trying to keep up. I couldn't catch the group when they went zooming by, and that was the last I saw of anyone on my way back. I didn't even stop at Longbottom's as I had ridden there instead of driving for a change, so I continued home for a hot shower. I missed that bagel sandwich.

I've really got to step up the fitness level a notch if I'm ever going to be able to ride with the 19's. What do I blame this slowness on? Lack of fitness? Well, I've been cross-country skiing a lot, but that isn't the same as a 3-hour ride. So I'll just venture out on a limb and say that I haven't been riding enough. It's all about base miles, right? I need to just ride more, simple as that. Back to the basics. No more excuses.

Dear bike, I miss you.

Hopefully we can ride again soon. In the meantime, here are some gloves and a scarf to keep your handlebars warm. The thaw is coming!

New bike to be?

It's possible. I'm being persuaded. But first, colors have to be changed. Purple does not go with red. I like things to be more neutral, less flashy. And once I get my new Castelli Portland Velo gear, it would definitely clash, so it's better if I had something that would match. I'm thinking take off the purple and red, and add a dark blue. Or a PV blue.

I suppose it's time. I've had my Trek for 2 years now. It's not the perfect bike, but I really got tired of shopping around so I bought the only color they had, and it was all I could afford at the time. It's carried me over many miles and gotten me up some difficult climbs. It has now been fitted with fenders and flaps and is now the "rain bike". I think it's time for what KRhea calls the "uber-chick-rocket" lightweight climbing bike. It would be nice to have a bike that I love, one that looks good, and is fast, and one that I could ride as it's meant to be ridden. Yes, it's time. I just realized that I want to ride faster, be stronger. It's obviously the bike, right? It couldn't possibly be ME that's slow.

Overcoming intimidation

After missing most of 'cross season and making multiple excuses (some actually quite imaginative, I think), I finally stepped up. So after much encouragement, some positive, some consisting of "shut up and race" or "man up!" I brought my mountain bike to the Hillsboro fairgrounds yesterday, still not 100% sure I'd race. I had plenty of time to back out. I hung around the Portland Velo tent for a while, then casually wandered over to the registration desk and was handed the number 423. It was karma - my birthday. So, it was decided. I had to race. I headed over to my car around noon, changed into my knickers & mountain biking shoes, and rode my bike over to the tent. A flurry of activity followed - people excitedly asking me "are you going to RACE?" which I replied with a shrug and "well - I'll ride, let's put it that way." My head is not really into this racing thing - I've got nothing to prove. I just thought why not - it'll be fun. (Right?)

Numerous people offered advice and to loan me their jerseys. I'm overwhelmed. I was told my long-sleeved jersey would be way too hot. I stripped that off as well as the sugoi shirt underneath and Sal tossed me one of Heidi's short sleeved PV jerseys. Kender patiently pinned the number on for me, instructing me to "raise my hand as if I knew the answer in math class", which makes me laugh. Can't back out now - I'm wearing a number. Looking around to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, I grabbed my gloves, helmet and bike, and rode over to the start. I saw some women riding around, and not knowing anything about the course, I started to follow, but Traci & Kristin yelled at me to hang out with them, so I complied. I'm amazed that I feel no urge to hurl, no nervous butterflies waiting for names to be called as all of the women's categories are lined up & then started. Cheered when they called Heidi's name and noted that her hair was already wet with sweat from warming up on the trainer. Warmup? I don't need to warm up, I thought. I'm only going to ride - maybe see if I can finish a lap. A whistle blows and I follow Traci - until she disappears into the throng of women. I hear someone yell my name. All I can do is focus on not falling as people pass me left and right. Great, I think. I'm so slow! I pedal through and wind around on a very bumpy section as everyone comments on how bumpy it is. I realize I am going to have to pass by the PV tent and am absolutely unprepared for the volume of noise as I do. Someone tells me "ride through the tent!" I have never heard so much simultaneous yelling of my name - it's deafening, but I like it and can't help smiling.

I decide not to dismount for the mushy barkdust speedbumps. I can handle that. Off to the bumpy section again and then around in circles until I realize I have completely forgotten everything I learned in the clinic I went to 2 months ago. I still manage to do a decent run through the 6-pack of barriers, or so I thought, at least the first time. Then after winding around a couple more circles, I see it. The ocean of mud in the famed "corral of crap". Ugh. I slog through as much as I can, managing to ride through most of it. I'm told the right side of the puddle is better. I trust no one and think that must be a lie. My shoes are soaked and my socks are caked with mud. People yelling at me the whole way to "ride it! ride it!" I try not to disappoint. My legs are already tired, and my breathing is much faster than I would like. Is my bike too small? Am I the only dork on a moutain bike? At some point I am riding with two other women who take turns passing me when I decide enough is enough and I must get around them. I don't see them again. On the second lap, I'm passed constantly - and I am grateful for all the words of encouragement "great job!" as well as the "on your left" as fast women on fancy 'cross bikes skillfully speed by me. I wonder if I am the last of the beginners. Better to be DFL than DNF, I think. Once again I make it past the PV tent and hear my name shouted by so many people I think I might burst into tears. It actually gives me a surge of energy and I try to go faster, attempting to catch some air on the bumps, but I don't. By the third lap, I no longer care about anything. The silence on the far part of the course is almost deafening and I wonder, is it over? If I quit now, would anyone know? I could just ride home on my muddy bike, or ride to the car. No one would know. They can't see me out here, how would they know where I am? Then I see J-Rod with his camera, Daryl shouts words of encouragement, even a girl leaning against the fence tells me "great job!" I smile and decide to finish, what have I got to lose? It becomes my only goal. So I head for my third trip into the dreaded mud pit of despair, hoping to emerge unscathed. The shouting is both helpful and distracting. Riding through the muck becomes completely impossible so I slog through, not possessing the energy to run. I accuse one guy of lying to me when he says I'm almost done. I can't make eye contact with anyone. The finish line is around the corner, I can hear it. I decide to remount for the occasion and at least not completely humiliate myself. I hear someone commenting on my Diamond Back and think better of asking him if he's making fun of my bike, because I don't care. I ride through the finish to cheers and then nonchalantly ride back to the tent and hang my bike on the rack. I'm greeted with high fives and hugs. I chug down the contents of my water bottle. Sierra takes pictures of me all muddy. I'm not as tired as I expected to be, but wonder how long everyone else has been done with their race, and then decide it doesn't matter. I finally collect myself enough to change back into my jeans and suddenly I'm ravenous. I drag Javad over with me to get some fries, which taste like the best food I have ever eaten. I stand around stuffing my face and decide this is the best team, the best day, ever. I can't wait to do it again - and maybe I'll actually try to race, not just finish, next time.