Some Pics

The awesome group of gals that let me come out west and ride a century with them.


Riding the century.







CAMBA Festival of the Trails after getting completely soaked while riding the Rock Lake trail.

Lot's Happening

I feel like cars are on my mind a lot lately. First off is the Cash for Clunkers that will soon be implemented. Yes, that means that in the very near future Dave and I will no longer be driving our distinctively colored lapis blue Jeep Cherokee. It's about to hit 200,000 miles and since it isn't worth much we'll be taking advantage of this offer. Everyone likes to ask us what we're going to buy to replace it but we have no idea. At first my list was super short (to the point of including virtually no vehicles) but now it includes a zillion as none of them seem very different or that exciting of an option. I'm also open to suggestions as long as the car fits the following profile:

• under $25,000 and preferably closer to $20,000
• excellent repair history
• excellent safety record
• gas mileage of at least 20mpg (but I would like better than that as 20mpg is seriously lame)
• room for stuff especially event promotion stuff so the Smart Car is out even if it is cute
• good for winter driving
• it would be nice if you could put 2 bikes inside or 4 pair of skis again ruling out the Smart Car
• it would be even better if it were union made in the US

As if trying to decide on what car to buy wasn't already more car related thinking and planning than I can handle I'm also in the process of resurrecting my 1969 AMC Javelin. It appears that the DMV is satisfied that the car is owned by me and is not stolen, made up of chop shop parts or a salvage vehicle. Now we go to the next phase of car resurrection. I think that I will be getting it towed out of its current storage facility right after July 4th to a mechanic here in Madison. I truthfully can't believe that I'm doing this. On one hand it is ridiculous as what am I going to do with this car once it is running again. I've never wanted to be a two car family . . . and as second cars go this one is highly impractical (what with its 343 4-barrel engine, high cost of maintenance, cost of renting a garage space in my neighborhood, and car insurance that limits where/when/how much you drive it). On the other hand it is really ridiculous to just keep paying to keep this car in storage with no plans. Oh well, mid-life crises are not supposed to make sense, right?!?!

In other life activities I did ride a century a few weeks ago in Utah. I actually felt pretty good during the ride but my legs have taken forever to recover. It was awesome though as I got to ride with some pretty fun gals. I also went to the Cable Festival of the Trails where I got to mountain bike on the always awesome CAMBA singletrack. Perhaps one day I will download the photos off my camera and post them.

Other than that I've been spending a lot of time visiting my Mom at her nursing home which is, unfortunately, a 3 hour drive away. However, given the doctor's prognosis it is time well spent (although she has luckily already lived longer than her doctor expected). Because of that I have ended up not getting to most of the events I had planned to do this summer but I'm fine with that. Some things are more important than riding and racing. I've had some good times with my Mom . . . like when I tried to explain to her that the century was just a ride with friends not a race. She asked me why I was going then. That made me realize that average people think I'm obsessed with racing even though I felt like I don't race that much anymore. Clearly my doing "just a ride" was confusing to my Mom.

Other than that I've rollerskied a little but not much. I've learned to swim but have a long ways to go before I have any confidence that I'm not going to drown. I've gone running at least once a week . . . just enough to ensure that it is always painful. I've got lots to do for the USGP which is coming up way too son. Things are, however, rolling along well for the trail run I'm organizing at Elver. The Women's Dirt Retreat is this weekend and Alison Dunlap is back in town for that. My house is in desperate need of cleaning and organizing. The book I started on the airplane ride back from Wyoming is no farther along that it was when I deplaned in Madison. However, my flower garden is looking great and hopefully survives the hot weather.

Okay, there's my update. Don't expect to hear much from me again for awhile. I think I'm going to go just to photo updates . . . but then I have to actually download my pics.

"Swimming" at the AmericInn

I post this merely to show that I have made some progress from refusing to put my face in the water to some not so great swimming that has dubious technique. However, this proves that I have indeed actually been taking swimming lessons and not hanging out at some bar for an hour and then spritzing myself with chlorine- scented cologne.

My Sunday

Got up Sunday morning and decided to go for a run. I have a fave run that I do quite a bit . . . you start off down the block and I'm always suffering immediately because it takes me awhile to get in a rhythm. I try to distract myself by looking at the houses in the neigbhorhood . . . look for which student rentals had a party the night before and look at the landscaping on the nice houses. Next thing you know you're going up the hill to the Vilas Circle where I never get tired of looking at the beautiful homes. Once you're up and past the circle then you're in the "other" part of Vilas Ave. You know, the nice part where there aren't any couches on the porches or broken beer bottles in the yards. Once I get to Vilas I'm usually feeling better and part way down I cut onto the bike path that goes along the park and run on the gravel on the side of the path. Off the path and onto Edgewood Drive where I like to duck onto the trail that parallels the road. Down the stairs, onto the wood chip path, watching out for the roots and tree stumps. Up and around the fallen tree, duck under another tree, say hi to the dog walker. Up the tree branch stair steps and eventually back onto the road. Then it's up the hill to Monroe Street and running in the grass still wet with morning dew. Wonder why I run this hill so much but it's actually not too bad a hill as it's very gradual. Then it's finally to Monroe Street. Pound the concrete sidewalk and realize that it only feels like I'm still going uphill and finally to the top and around the bus stop. Take a turn and there is a little downhill before the annoying uphill to the top of Edgewood. It's short but feels steep and it's a weird intersection where you can't see the traffic easily. Then it's down, down, down. Decision time . . . which way back home. Today it's down to the park, across the bridge. Along the lake. Watching out for goose poop. See all the people fishing. Pass another runner and smile. Check out the lake and see a couple of canoers but no swimmers even though the lake is calm. Over to the zoo where people are waiting for it to open. Back onto the sidewalk and wondering why I took the longer of the possible routes as it no longer feels like a good idea. Cross the street to the hospital. Watch out for crazy, lost drivers there. A few more blocks, must keep moving. Almost there. Finally the last intersection and it's my block. Stop to chat with the neighbor and then check in on the progress of my flower garden. Nice run!

A good start to a day . . . .then it's on to chores and errands. Like laundry. Boring but necessary. Stop off at A Stone's Throw to see what just came in and chit chat with the staff. Pull myself away and finally get on with my day. Which basically means heading off to Hayward and driving, driving, driving. Grow weary of the 3 cds I brought but keep driving, driving, driving.

Running late as always I arrive at the AmericInn with storm clouds looming and darkness all too close. Throw on my bike clothes and sprint off towards the Hatchery Creek trails. My legs are opposed to the lack of warm up but I try to ignore them as the dark clouds move closer. Pass by Rosie's field of Chequamegon fame and keep pedaling to the singletrack. Finally arrive but there's no time to slow down as the clouds loom.






Remember why it is worth it to rush as the Hatchery Creek singletrack is the perfect post-long drive ride. No big climbs and lots of fast swoopy turns bring a smile to the face. Too bad the rain starts up all too soon. In the woods it's just a sprinkle so I push forward and get to the second junction and turn back. I keep the pressure on as I don't want to be stuck out in a downpour. It's not that warm and the rain is making it dark faster and I already didn't have too much time. All too soon I'm back to the trailhead and out of the trees it is obvious that it is raining harder than I thought. Put it in the big ring and pedal furiously back to the hotel. Arrive wet but happy.




Dry off and then decide to get wet again . . . head to the pool and practice my swimming. It's the first time I've been in a pool all by myself. No other swimmers, no instructors, just me and the water. It's a little weird at first but the max pool depth is a generous 5 ft. Definitely a shallower 5 ft than my usual pool. Wonder if I'll ever be comfortable swimming. Keep trying going back and forth doing my drills trying to remember what I'm supposed to be doing. Try not to choke on water too much. Relax.

Now it's late . . . and it's still the off season in Hayward so the brew pub is closed, pizza place closed, even Perkins has closed. Off to the grocery store for a salad, chips and cookies. I'm
starving.

My "training" is on track

A long time ago I signed up for a century that is to take place in Utah in a couple of weeks (it's a women's century called the Little Red Riding Hood). In reality I signed up for it because some cool chix I know invited me and I totally wanted to hang out with them. However, I also had this idea that I would do a ton of cycling this spring and be completely prepared.

It's funny how things don't turn out and life gets in the way of plans. However, I have stopped worrying about my lack of training as I googled "training for a century" and found a plan that has made me realize that I'm fine. The plan calls for the longest training ride to be 65 miles. Luckily I managed to survive 64 miles last Sunday and was planning to do something like that again this weekend should I have time (now I know I don't even need to).

Of course the training plan did call for ramping up the long ride from 25 to 30 to 35 to 40, etc, etc and I went from 30 to 30 to 40 back to 30 to 30 and then to 64. It may have also called for a bit more midweek riding than I have done but it wasn't that specific so why worry about it. Besides why do all that intermediate training if you can just tough it out, right??? If 65 miles is your longest ride before a century then you're going to need to know how to tough it out anyway so why not practice that.

Glad I did that google search as I know feel so much better about my training . . . or my lack of training . . . or my crazed cross training . . . or something. Frankly as long as I get to hang out with my totally awesome "mountain gal pals" and I get a margarita (hint, hint) then I can tough out most anything.

Cross Training Gone Awry

I think that to consider what you do cross training that you need to pick a primary sport. I have been having trouble with that though so given that, I'm not sure if I can actually say that I've been cross training. Can I even say that I've been training if there is no focused goal? I think that I've abandoned training and am just exercising. A subtle but important difference.

Here's the thing - In the last week I've biked once, run twice, been to the swimming pool twice, did one strength workout, did one rollerski/ski plyometrics workout and did one trail workday. It's funny because I would consider myself either a cyclist or a skier but I did more running and swimming. Wow, it's clear that I have no focus . . . . and it's very clear that riding a century in 3 weeks will be unbelievably painful.

I probably should make an effort to change those workout stats but I figure this weekend I will swim once, bike once and run once. Hmmm . . . . what does this mean? Probably that cyclocross season is going to start very painfully for me if I don't start riding more.

Swimming

Water is wet. Sometimes it isn't I suppose like when it is cold and it freezes into ice or snow crystals. I like water when it is actually snow crystals. That's the best. I know what to do with that. Wet water is more of a conundrum. I like to drink it. It can be good for bathing. My plants seem to like it when I remember to douse them with water.

To be surrounded by lots of wet water though is a totally different matter. I've spent nearly 40 years avoiding that. It was easy when I was a child as there was no pool in my neighborhood and the creek near my house wasn't even knee deep. Oh sure there was the occasional trip to the nearest town that had a pool. My brother would sometimes ask to go and I was usually stupid enough to tag along. Not sure why as I always hated it and the day was marked by my brother sneaking up on me about a zillion times and holding me under the water while I thrashed around. As an adult I just stayed out of the water.

At some point I made a vow to myself that I would learn to swim when I turned 40. I don't think I ever told anyone that so it would have been easy to get out of the promise. No one would have called me out. I guess that's not my style though as I started to think more and more about it as the days to 40 grew less and less. Eventually I decided to ask for a recommendation on a instructor so I could live up to my promise.

Still it would have been easy to never go farther than that . . . . lose the email, never find the time, forget . . . . a zillion excuses exist to not face your fears. However, deep down I knew that I wasn't the same person who failed miserably at trying to learn to swim 20 years ago. Age gives you the ability to face your fears better as you've had to many more times. Age makes you realize that you can do things that are difficult and you also realize it's okay if it is hard and you struggle to learn and it will even be okay if you can't do it. This knowledge makes it possible to take the first steps toward conquering a fear -- a fear that really is pretty inconsequential in the scheme of things. You can face this so you send the email, set a date and move forward.

That doesn't mean that on the day that has been set to start the process that you aren't crazy nervous. You have the nervous stomach like you might get if this was your first big race and everyone around you seems to be more prepared. You're hit with the strong desire to back out and maybe even run and hide. But you don't because you know that you want to do this and no matter the outcome that it will be better to try.

Fast forward a couple of months and it's hard to believe that you actually felt so nervous the first day you went to the pool and committed yourself to learning to swim. It's almost funny . . . I mean it's just you and one instructor so I'm sure he'd notice if you were about to drown . . . not to mention that the practice pool has a maximum depth of 5 feet so you can just stand up when the going gets tough.

And you're going and you're taking the challenge and every week poses a new challenge but the kind of challenge that leaves you feeling exhilarated afterwards. It's hard to imagine that you would be so excited after each lesson. Not that things have become easy. Forty years of fear and loathing don't evaporate that quickly. But there is progress and it is exciting. More progress than could have been imagined. In the best case scenario it seemed that 8 lessons would get you to floating . . . hopefully.

To think that in that time you would be able to link together a series of freestyle strokes that would take you across the practice pool . . . that actually would have been unimaginable. Yet that is where I'm at. Not that the strokes are pretty or that they are easy. The style of swimming is frenetic at best but it is swimming. It is also very scary. Somehow the brain easily and quickly forgets that you're in 5 feet deep water with a swim instructor standing close by.

Instead the mind is racing and the heart is pounding and all you can think is that you need to link all these movements together while taking in air and not freaking out about the water in your nose. It's such a crazy intense feeling and you're trying to stay relaxed in the water all the while your brain is screaming out at you that you're going to die. And you're turning it off and just making yourself do the strokes and you get to the end of the pool and you pray that you don't have to do it again. It's too hard. It's too scary. You can't do it. But then you do it one more time . . . and again . . . and again. And it's exciting and you can't believe that you were really swimming.

Still in the back of the head it can be hard to believe that you will be able to recreate those moments. But you want to so you visualize yourself doing it and you think about the motions and you think about trying to be relaxed. And the next thing you know you're excited at the idea of going to the pool and giving it another try. The mind still thinks that you've plateaued and this is it and that maybe you won't make the next step in the process. Still you know you've thought that before and still you've made progress.

It's an exciting adventure . . . and it's fun . . . and it's scary . . . and it's heart racing, gasping for air . . . insanity. And it requires a good coach who is part swim instructor part relaxation expert and part psychologist.

That's swimming for me . . . people ask if I'm going to do a triathlon. That still seems scary and like something that is far off in the future. I hope to get there as it will be a statement of how far I've come. I'm starting to believe that I will one day at least be able to go kayaking or canoeing without worrying that someone will have to save me.