Black Hills/Richmond Race Reports

Simply stated, it was a great weekend of racing. Great friends, nice weather, sweet results, and well-run races. The injuries from last weekend are still hanging around, as evidenced by the various aches and the stuff still oozing out of my knee and elbow. But when I see a guy missing half of his leg hauling ass up a serious climb in the Cat 4/5 men's race at Black Hills, I get a little perspective and slap myself with RULE FIVE! (Also, that guy is my new hero.) Black Hills Circuit Race I liked the setting and the course here quite a bit. Although I was in the Cat 4 race, we started with the 1/2/3 women and I had no idea who belonged to which category. The race felt more comfortable and controlled than last weekend from the beginning, which may have had something to do with the fact that ...continue reading.

Lindsay, here.

There is a lot of talk about my choice to race with the Cat 4 men this weekend, so I have a few things to contribute to the conversation. I am a cross-country mountain bike racer, where I hold a pro license. I've also dabbled in cyclocross, where I'm a Cat 2 racer. I've done a lot of races, I'm strong and fast, and I know how to work hard and how to compete. I train six days a week on both trails and road, and I've put in some serious bike time in the past three and a half years. Aside from the logistical reasons mentioned in my race report, these reasons are why I chose to race with the Cat 4 men. Because I had never done a road race, I did not know just how important it was to understand how to ride in a pack. In mountain ...continue reading.

How I took out the Cat 4 men’s race.

Yesterday was my first road race ever. I went with my friend Andrew down to Suffolk, VA to do the Sleepy Hole Smackdown. For several reasons, I chose to do the Cat 4 men's race: it started later and would allow me to avoid driving down the night before, Andrew was doing that race, the field was bigger, etc. My legs felt good going into the race and the course looked deceptively easy. It was a flat half-mile paved loop with two ninety-degree turns and two sweeping turns. The race started and things seemed to be going well enough. Andrew and I separated pretty early; he went near the front, while I moved around from the front-ish to the middle. It amazed me to see how quickly things shifted in the pack. One second I'd be riding with a group, then suddenly I'd be riding alone and people would be ...continue reading.

Notcycle

I was excited about Snotcycle. It was a race at a time of year in which I'm not generally racing and was an opportunity to leave the off-season stupor, fill my car with race day necessities, and wake up with butterflies and a desire to make other people cry with my bicycle. I even brought my trainer to the race to guarantee a proper warmup. HA! The race started and 500 yards later, we were off our bikes and trudging through deep snow. Over five miles later, we were still off our bikes. My calves were screaming, I had been passed by two women in my category who were better at running with their bikes, and the best I could do was jog along and periodically try riding before tumbling off several yards later.  The snow was somewhat packed down by the second lap and allowed for significantly more riding, ...continue reading.

Please.

I don't pray. It seems pointless to send a request to a higher power and then sit back and hope it comes through. It either will or it won't, but not because a mythical power listened to my plaintive voice amongst billions and decided it was my lucky day. But I'm going to make an exception here. I need to pray for some answer, any answer at all that I can actually believe, for what to do about my back. It hurts. It isn't getting better. I'm not riding. All of the hard work I've put in is slipping away. The physical therapy seems to be increasing the pain. The answers I get are all vague and suggest interminable waiting. I can't wait any longer. I'm losing my mind and the pain just continues to gnaw at me. It ebbs and flows, changes places and depth, sometimes bites or grabs ...continue reading.

The Name ‘Deadlift’ May Have Been A Hint

Bobby rented the movie “Eat Pray Love” for me the other day, and when I saw it on the kitchen counter, I cringed. When the movie was released, I vowed never to see it. The book was excellent (except for the parts about god); not only were Elizabeth Gilbert’s travels fascinating, but I liked her writing style and her internal struggles and unsettled nature were highly relatable. Translating the book into a movie, however, resulted in a nauseating tale of an upper class white American woman escaping from her tortured existence by traveling for a year and cherrypicking other cultures while living off a magical pot of cash. I put on the movie out of obligation, fell asleep before Julia Roberts even made it to Italy, and woke up so annoyed that I froze my laptop in my haste to eject the disc. The point is that I can recognize ...continue reading.