Icefail

DNF. I made it 22 miles then pulled out at the last aid station. Serves me right for publicly saying "I feel prepared."

Picture from my friend Amanda. Not of me, but this is pretty indicative of how the race went...

So many things went wrong. I should've known I was in for trouble when I realized the morning of that I forgot my chamois cream at home. Right off the bat, my computer stopped working so for most of the race I had no idea how fast I was going, how far I'd gone, or how long I'd been out there. (Which ended up being a LONG time.) Occasionally when I hit a bump or jiggled it a little it would pop back on for a few minutes, but for the most part it was useless.

By the time I was on the course (wave 41 at 11:07, so over 3,000 people had already been in front of me) the course was a muddy mess for the most part. The snow from the night before had melted and the singletrack areas were just disgusting. Thick, black, oily mud.

Fairly early on, I crashed. Someone went down in front of me on a big root, I tried to correct for it and went down on the same root. It tore up my right thigh and I was in pain for the rest of the race. Hell, I'm STILL in pain from that.

Things were going okay until I reached a sandy, muddy downhill area of two-track...I was indecisive about picking my line, and tried crossing the snowy median to get a better one. I slid out on the snow and landed on my tummy, in the mud, with my bike on top of me, still clipped into both pedals. After some flailing around like a half-paralyzed zombie, I managed to get both feet unclipped, but still couldn't really move. Someone stopped and pulled my bike off me, and made sure I was okay. (Thank you, whoever you are!) This crash hurt even more than the first, because I was going a lot faster and landed a LOT harder. I had to walk for a while before I was feeling good enough to get back on the bike.

At about that time, I realized my food was no longer in my pocket. Somewhere (I'm guessing when I first crashed) it must've fallen out without me noticing because I was hurriedly trying to get back on the bike. Lesson of the day: check your pockets when you crash. This was my biggest downfall, because it caused me to bonk about 10 miles from the finish. I succumbed to the sleepy, dizzy, disorienting low-blood-sugar-ickiness that is the bonk. Even on the flat, solid areas I had trouble keeping my balance on the bike, and the parts I walked, I had to lean on the bike for balance to keep from falling over. It was all I could do to make it to the next aid station, I knew I couldn't go any further.

I am very hard on myself, especially when I fail to meet my goals. I arrived at the aid station crying. I have never felt as much disappointment in myself as I did then—giving up, failing, demoralized. Some nice people drove me to the finish and gave me some amazing banana bread. I devoured it.

Recap of shit that went wrong:

1. No chamois cream
2. Computer stopped working
3. Crashed
4. ...Crashed again
5. Lost my food
6. Dropped my chain...multiple times
7. Bonked
8. Emotional breakdown at the last aid station
9. DNF

I did do a few things right though!

1. I wore the right clothing this time—didn't get too hot or cold!
2. Good tire choice
3. ...Unfortunately, that's about it.

I went back to my hotel and showered. Slept. Ate. Went to the afterparty and had to explain my failure to everyone who asked how I did. I drank way more than I should have, and had a generally awesome time. (Except for losing my phone. But I found it later, so it ended up being okay.)

I'll be back next year. I'm starting to feel better, both physically and emotionally. For now, I'm going to take advantage of the beautiful, 60ºF weather right now and go for a ride.

Nerves and rebounding

Earlier this week I rode at Luton Park, and it was my first ride since getting a concussion at Island Lake. It was nerve-wracking. I really loved the trail there, but I found myself second guessing every single rock, root, and branch. Stuff that normally wouldn't make me blink. It was one of the most scary rides I've ever been on, even though it was technically one of the easiest trails I've ever ridden (I skipped the loops marked "most difficult" because of doctor's orders, but really I wasn't feeling up to it at all). If I hadn't been riding with a friend, odds are I wouldn't have even ventured off the blue loop. (I also did the orange loop, and three laps of the green loop). I imagined myself going over the bars and losing my vision again every time some trail element (however minor) appeared. It was horrible.

This response was totally unexpected to me. I'm no stranger to crashing. Hell, my worst (until this point) kept me off the bike for two months. I'm guessing it was different this time because it was so scary to effectively lose my vision, and I'm betting it'll only take time to get over it.

In better news though, I found someone to transfer their Iceman entry to me! I'm very excited to be able to race that this November.

Carrie vs. The Sand God...

You may remember that there are gods of cycling. (One of them being the Sun God, which possesses male cyclists with the urge to unclothe.) Well, apparently my relative success in the sand pits at Ore to Shore and confidence riding in sand seems to have angered the Sand God.

That's right, the Sand God. Yeah, I didn't know about him either, not until yesterday.

It was my first time riding Island Lake, and I was hauling ass through the first three miles (or at least, I think that's about where I went down). I'm just riding along by this beautiful lake, and all of a sudden I hit a deep patch of sand. I wavered for a couple seconds through it, thinking I had it cleaned, and then BAM, I go flying over the handlebars.

About thirty seconds or so behind me was a man named Bob, who shall henceforth be known as Guardian Angel Bob, at least in mind. I got up and thought I was okay, and told him to keep riding. Instead he stopped and said he'd wait, which I'm so thankful for.

A minute later my vision started to get really bright and fuzzy, and it reached a point where I couldn't see my bike, or him, or the trail in front of me. Bob helped me sit down to the side of the trail. It was all just white, and sort of sparkly. Kind of beautiful, but very scary. It felt like it took about ten minutes to get back to normal, at which point I became aware my ears were ringing. Really loudly. I was scared, and I didn't really care that my elbow and knee were bleeding and that my legs hurt like hell.

Once my vision and hearing were back on track, I decided to follow him back to the trailhead. Bob rode really slow with me through the remaining 6 miles of the blue loop. (I have a feeling our average speed was about 6-7mph, but I forgot to put my computer back on Sybil after the post-O2S hose-off, so I can't be sure. Still being dizzy and relatively out of it, that was all I could handle.) Bob kept me moving and showed me the best lines on some of the more tricky areas. I probably wouldn't have stayed upright for very long if I was on the trail by myself. Thank you Bob, for sticking with me. I appreciate it more than you know. I'm just sorry I slowed down your ride.

I later went to the doctor and found out I had a concussion, and I'm on orders to take it easy for a couple days. I've got scabs on my joints, bruises starting to form, and a healthy new respect for the Sand God. Island Lake seems like a trail I'd normally love, but I've got a bad taste in my mouth from it, and a bit of sand, too. I still don't remember quite how I landed, but there was sand everywhere: in my hair, gloves, bra, socks...I'm not sure I'll be coming back for seconds any time soon.

Ore to Shore...

I finished!

Actually, I did more than just finish. I didn't crash, I didn't cause any crashes, and I didn't come in last. I finished at 2:34, which was good for 16th in my age division, and 197 overall for women. My pace was pretty slow at 10.9 mph, but hey, I can't complain. It was my first race, and I seriously slacked on my training plan. Hopefully next year I'll actually stick to my training regimen and go faster. I was kind of nervous about the mass start with almost a thousand people (967 people finished the Soft Rock race), but I finished uninjured, and I beat a lot of people, too!

Okay, so I did fall once. In the first sand pit somebody cut me off, and I fell into the sand...but I can't call this a crash, since I didn't run into anything, or take anyone out, and the sand was actually quite fluffy. It was kind of like falling into a pillow. But I learned my lesson and was really careful about each of the following sand pits...and there were a ton of them. No amount of training in sand could've prepared me for the soupy pits which were surprisingly reminiscent of quicksand.

There was really only one mishap the entire race: while I was pushing my bike, some woman climbing Kirby's Hill fell into me when her tires stopped spinning. I'm okay, but my rear wheel is now seriously out of true and I need to get that fixed. I'm just thankful it happened in the last few miles of the race.

Rolling out on pavement: the only photo my mother got of me actually on the bike

A few revelations:

1. Being serious about training might actually be a good idea next year. My last long-ish offroad ride was 24 miles of the North Country Trail in June with an average pace of about 13mph, so I actually got slower as the season went on. Shame on me.
2. My bike is great at descending. People were pedaling their asses off downhill, and I cruised by them coasting. I know I'm not that aerodynamic, so props to you, Gary Fisher!
3. I brought way too much water. My camelbak was still half full when I went through the finish. Actually, it might be time to invest in a smaller, lighter-weight pack for racing.
4. Never trust people when they say a race is "practically all downhill." I heard that a lot about Ore to Shore, but don't let anyone fool you, there was a LOT of uphill in this course, especially early on.
5. Damn, this racing stuff is FUN!

Well, that's going to leave a bruise...

Just the other night, I was discussing clipless pedals at a bar with a friend (I just re-read that sentence, and w-o-w, I have no life...) and stated that while I have my fair share of spills on my mountain bike, it's never been because I couldn't clip out in time.

I should've knocked on wood.

I rode Addison again today, and on one of the climbs I wasn't paying enough attention and my gearing was too high. As my pedaling slowed down I couldn't keep upright...and my feet locked up. And so I tipped over, and then slid down a hillside a little bit...when I stopped moving I was about eight feet away from the trail, and my face was inches away from the underside of my rear wheel. What the heck? How did that even HAPPEN?

Replaying the fall in my head, I still don't know how I ended up that way. I'm only a little scratched up, but my knee is already starting to swell. I'm going to have to check out my pedals (I use Crank Bro Candies); they've always been very easy to pop out of, but today I noticed a couple of times that they felt sticky and not as quick to disengage. It was probably a warning sign.

In other news, I recently made a trip to REI to pick up some gels (you can't beat the 20% discount...) and I found some new ride snacks to try out! There were some interesting ones, including some that look like malted milk balls, and hazlenut butter, and even some tasty-looking flavored honey things. So, over the next couple weeks, expect to find my reviews here.

First up: Power Bar Energy Gel Blasts.

There were two flavors at REI: Raspberry and Strawberry Banana. I went with the Strawberry Banana option because they contained caffeine. I was expecting them to have the consistency of Gushers, but they were more of a really tough gummy. They were actually pretty hard to chew, so I don't really think I'd recommend them for an on-the-bike snack. I think I'll be sticking with Gu for that. But they're nice if you're like me and stop between laps to enjoy a nice picnic. (Yes, that's grape juice and a PBJ sandwich in the background.)

Rocks? Fuck rocks.

I'm not a huge fan of rocks. I'm sure one day I'll master them, and who knows, maybe even learn to love them. But for now, I'm cool with us being arch enemies.

I know I'll never get better unless I try things I can't yet handle, and I know I'm bound to fall a little (okay, a lot) in the process. But rocks? They are just so unfriendly. And hard. There's no good way to fall on a rock (or a pile of rocks) except to avoid hitting your head. Today I didn't get too bloody, but come morning I'm going to have quite a few bruises on my bottom. And my legs. And my side.

Ouch. The good news though? I'm getting better—I cleared one pile of rocks before wiping out on the second.