It's Been Far Too Long

I’m not sure where to begin. It’s been many months since my last update so here is the short version.

I rode my bike with Chris Horner for a second time. Got dropped on a climb and called him mean.

I rode my third Levi’s GranFondo. Even though I was signed up for the medio route, I stuck with the piccolo and worked at improving my time over the first two times. I was successful.

I started recovering from my severe depression that began in July/August and by December decided that I was going to buy a house. By mid-January I had started the house hunting. I quickly learned that navigating the paperwork and such of buying a home is a daunting task for anyone. As a person with a TBI, I felt at times like I was drowning. I couldn't have done it without the support of friends.

Also in mid-January I met a guy (whom I'll refer to as J) and we’ve been dating since. Things moved quickly which was, again, very overwhelming for me. It wasn’t long before we were shopping for road bikes in his size. J ended up buying one used from someone I know. It had to be shipped from Missouri and as a thank you gift to him for helping me move at the beginning of May, I had the beautiful Cannondale CAAD9 built up for him. We’ve only managed to get out and ride about three times though. He drops me every time. Someday, I'm going to just stop and see how long it takes him to realize I'm not behind him.

Being in a new-to-me home has been a completely rewarding and very scary experience. I’m quickly learning that there are a lot of things that can go wrong even with thorough inspections. Many repair people to wait for, delivery people to wait for, etc. It’s left little time for riding my bike, but when I’m on, I’m feeling good.

Wish I had more to say to everyone aside from asking you to hound me about riding my bike because I have three months to train for Levi’s GranFondo and I need to get off my sofa and in the saddle!

Six (Very Long) Months Later…

Six months ago today, I was in an accident that turned my life upside down.  While it’s been the longest and most difficult six months of my life, I actually don’t remember much of it.  What I do remember is due to my obsessive photo taking and blogging about what’s been going on in my life. 

Simply, I’ve spent the last six months learning how to live with a traumatic brain injury.  This includes relearning how to cope with life’s stresses while desperately trying to hold the good times in my memory.  I’ve made some new friends and had my heart broken by those that I had misread their intentions and/or had mistaken for friends.  I’m still fighting some of the physical symptoms of the TBI and I’m certainly still fighting the emotional issues.  There is very little about the time that has been easy and I still have a long, rough road ahead of me.  It could be years before I return to normal, or at least get used to a new normal. 

Today, that long, rough road was quite literally ahead of me.  I had decided a while ago that on my six-month recovery date, I wanted to do something special.  An “epic” ride or perhaps trying something new and seemingly crazy?  I opted for the ride.

So, bright and early this morning, I headed out with my friend Chris who has been there for me through thick and thin.  We tackled a new route of a little over 30 miles and about 800 ft of climbing.  Now remember that long, rough road I mentioned in the previous paragraph?  Our ride also included a 2-mile stretch of a winding, undulating, gravel road.

Gravel section of 28 Mile Road

 Nothing says "rough road" like a gravel road, but gravel doesn't scare me!

This was definitely one of the most challenging unsupported rides I’ve accomplished.  In fact, the only one that can even compare would be the Turlock Lake Road Race route, but number wise, that one was easier, I just wasn’t in as good of shape back in February.

Not a bad way to celebrate six months of recovery.

Finding Adventure

Last week, my tweep Rob posted, “Keep finding adventure in your life!” Seems so simple and for some reason it really spoke to me.

After my accident I’d read that a person may go through some personality changes with this type of injury.  Evidence is showing that I’m not immune to that.  Within a month or so, I’d found myself wanting to try new things.  Not things like new food, but things that aren’t something most people would ever find themselves doing.  For example, I decided that I desperately wanted to take flying lessons. 

Throughout my vacation, I also found myself a little more outgoing than normal.  Yes, I was still relatively quiet in a group situation, but I didn’t seem to have much trouble with starting a conversation with the complete stranger standing next to me.

Even my mom commented that I seem to be a little different the last few months, but she was unable to pinpoint what the exact difference is.

Keeping in line with my new “adventuresome” side, when my friend Deborah mentioned signing up for an event called Beat the Clock, I decided I wanted to do it too.  The signing up for the event isn’t the out of character part; it’s what the event is.  Beat the Clock is a charity event for LiveStrong held once a year at Hellyer Park Velodrome in San Jose.

Yes, you read that correctly.  A velodrome.  Meaning I’d signed up to ride on a track, something that I never had much interest in doing and if I’m being honest, a year ago I probably wouldn’t have done it.  I have no experience riding on a track and while I would be allowed to use my road bike, brakes and all, I was still insanely nervous.

So nervous that while I was being held upright and the countdown started for my first event, I thought I was going to hyperventilate.  I had done a few warm up laps to get the feel of the banking on the velodrome, but placing so much trust in this stranger not to let me fall over was difficult.  I’m pleased to announce that he didn’t drop me.

My first event proved much more strenuous than I’d anticipated.  I’d miscalculated the number of laps and based my speed on how I felt warming up.  I ripped out of the start and amped up my speed to 24 mph.  Suppose I looked strong for the first lap, but after about one and a half laps, I started to burn out even though I was only halfway through. 

The second event went much more smoothly as I paced myself and managed to keep a fairly consistent and comfortable speed of about 18.5 mph.  As I rode by my friends, one of them yelled for me to stop smiling.  Hey… I was having fun and channeling my inner Chris Horner, nothing wrong with that! 

Of course, I came in last each time, but I tried something new.  I took a lot of comfort in the fact that I was on the track at the same time as Deborah.  Really made a difference to know I had friends there with me. While I'm not certain this is an activity in which I'll partake on a regular basis, let's not forget what Davis Phinney says - "Every victory counts!"

Thanks to Deborah, John, Chris, and Emily for all of the support… and for the super cool poster!

Bunny’s Gettin’ Her Groove Back

Yesterday I got my bike back from the shop with the shiny new fork (that doesn't actually match) and a new seat post.  Of course, this would mean a ride (or two or three) this weekend.

Today was my first road ride since the accident and only my second ride (first was the short jaunt on the mountain bike).  I was so excited about getting back on the bike that I couldn’t get back to sleep this morning and ended up starting my morning much earlier than needed.

It’s all good though because today I rode my bike.

The anticipation was almost too much for me and as I was getting ready to leave to meet my friend; I was actually nervous and shaking.  The worry about what would happen wasn’t going to stop me though.  Nothing was.  Not even the crazy winds of 10-20 mph along our chosen route.  Any other day those winds probably would have deterred me, but not today.  Today was going to be a good day.

And it was.

Ready to roll out and sporting my Raisin Hope Foundation wristband to remind me how lucky I am.

I started with a couple of laps around the parking lot just to make sure I could remember how to clip in and out.  Immediately, I fell right back into the familiar routine that had become second nature to me.  I guess that saying about never forgetting how to ride a bike is true.

Although the wind didn’t stop me from riding, it did slow us down and cause us to cut our ride short, but the ride was nothing short of amazing for me.  I’d forgotten what it feels like to clip in and out of pedals.  I’d forgotten the feeling of the breeze on my face.  I’d forgotten what it feels like get down into the drops and hammer into a strong wind (my flatlander hills).  Oh, how I miss these things!  Okay, I could do without the wind.

It’s all good though because today I rode my bike.

Now, as I sit home getting ready to meet a friend for lunch, all I can really think about is my next ride.  I’m high on endorphins and can’t sit still.  Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Coincidentally, tomorrow is when I pick up my new Giro Ionos waiting for me up at the shop by my parents’ house.  There will definitely be a ride to celebrate that too.

Getting There

Friday marked five weeks since my accident. Alternatively, if you prefer, Monday, April 4, marked one month since the brain injury.

Over those five weeks, there were times when I honestly thought I’d reached my peak and would never feel like myself again. Interspersed were days when I felt pretty darn good. Most days I just dealt with whatever it was that happened to be bothering me that day, whether it was a headache, vertigo, virtually no concentration, or being excessively agitated. (Then there is the whole issue with numbers persistently tripping me up. I consistently invert numbers when I write them down, which isn’t great for work when trying to assign a page to students, but at least I’m aware that I do it now and my students are always more than elated to correct me.)

Perturbed by feeling so pissed off and sorry for myself all the time, I decided that at four weeks I was going to kick my brain injury’s butt. I also decided to give it a one-week grace period because late assignments should be accepted in a situation such as this. It was determined that at the five-week mark I’d get back onto the saddle. I stuck to this and showed my brain injury who was really in charge with a short ride on Dry Creek Trail. Of course, my road bike is still out of commission so my bike of choice was my Trek mountain bike, which saw dirt for the first time in nearly two years.

Having been advised to not ride alone when I was ready for my comeback (yeah, I’m calling it that), Chris was kind enough to meet me after work despite battling her own knee injury. I survived the ride and had only a couple of nervous moments.

Men's Pro/1/2 at the Turlock Lake Road Race

Saturday was a bit more unremarkable than Friday, but it was also my first day back behind the camera lens at a race. Thanks to Chris’s connections, we enjoyed full access to the course. We had a good time and snagged some good shots of the riders, but the day wasn’t all fun and games.

Unfortunately, a crash took out a couple of the women in the pro/1/2/3 group. They were taken by life flight to a nearby hospital with severe head injuries. I can’t help but worry about their condition even though I don’t know who they were. Five weeks ago, that was me, minus the helicopters, remote location, and actual element of racing. My thoughts go out to the women injured and hope they have a full and speedy recovery.

Now, back to me, since this is about me anyhow, I’m happy to report that I’m definitely feeling better even though my symptoms haven’t completely disappeared. I’m feeling confident enough to ride despite some pretty major skull discomfort wearing a helmet and look forward to hitting the road more often in the coming weeks.

See you out there! (Or some of you at least!)

Pedal Dexterity

Sub titled: Monkey Toes
Sub sub titled: Dwight Schrute and Jens Voigt Have Nothing on Me!

Riding with Chris is always a fun experience because at some point we usually end up in a fit of giggles. Christmas Eve was no exception.

Chris and I decided to head out to the Knight’s Ferry area to ride to Robert’s Ferry and back. It was going to be about 30-miles of rolling hills and little traffic. My drive to our meeting place worried me because the valley appeared to be covered in the dense tule fog that so often plagues this area. To my surprise and pleasure, the fog started to clear before I arrived in Knight’s Ferry and shortly after we began riding, the fog lifted completely. It was turning out to be a gorgeous day for a ride with perfect weather and fun company.

Due to a lack of riding (not to mention a lack of hill training), Chris and I tired quickly. I can’t speak for her, but eventually I warmed up and was feeling better. Of course, we stopped occasionally to take photos of the landscape, converse with cows, and strip off our various layers because of the surprisingly warm weather.

We eventually decided on a turn around point and made a brief stop to take some more photos. With a momentary lapse of judgment (hello? Rain + dirt = mud), I stepped off the road to get a better angle for my shot. Once I stepped back onto the road, I realized my mistake. The result: Mud in the cleats. I cleaned them out a bit before getting back on the bike and didn’t give it further thought until a while later when I decided to stop again. I was unable to unclip from the left side.

Herein lies the problem – despite being right handed, I always unclip from the left and put that foot down. I’ve had more than one cyclist comment on this so apparently the majority of people do it the other way around. With no other choice, I unclipped from the right and slowed down while repeating in my head Go right, go right. Unfortunately, my body didn’t listen. The moment I realized I was going to fall I thought Don’t put your hand down, it’s not that far. Better to fall to the left and not land on my derailleur and break a bone on my left than the right, correct? This time my body listened. Once on the ground I was able to pull my cleat from the pedal and get up with only damaged pride.

Now what? Like any normal cyclist with another 10 miles to ride, I checked my pedals, checked my cleats, and then got back on the bike. Silly me.

When I realized that I was unable to unclip from either side, Chris and I started to derive a plan so I could stop safely. We decided that the best bet would be for me to remove my foot from my shoe so I started to play with them to see if I could undo the shoe while riding. This proved to be more difficult than I originally imagined.

On to Plan B. Chris ended up riding ahead of me so she could catch me when I stopped. While she held onto me, I was able to remove my feet from the shoes. Once I was safely off the bike, but not out of danger due to an unusual number of bees, it was time to figure out how I’d ride the remaining 8 or so miles. Eventually, we decided that forcing my shoes off my pedals (it took the two of us putting a good amount of force on them) and riding back with no shoes would be the only option, regardless of how stupid I’d look or unsafe it’d be.

So that’s what I did. I curled my toes around the small surface of the pedals like a monkey and continued to ride in significant discomfort unable to get out of the saddle to pedal. I walked up hills, rode the flats, and coasted downhill. Not exactly the perfect ending to the ride.

It's as uncomfortable as it looks.  Photo by Chris.

A slight feeling of horror washes over me when I realize that this could have been any of my rides when I’m normally alone. What then? Surely, I’m not the only cyclist who has quite literally been unable to unclip from the pedals.  If it wasn't for Chris being there, I pretty much would have been out of luck.

Needless to say, this is one reason I always wear a helmet.

Greetings from Belgium!

Well, not really. I’m still in Northern California, but with the rain we’ve been getting, it might as well be Belgium. As a result, very little riding has taken place since Levi’s GranFondo in October. The weather isn’t the only reason, but it would qualify as the main reason.

Fortunately, it’s also cyclocross season. Rain would normally put a damper on riding, but if you race cyclocross or enjoying watching it, rain increases the enjoyment (maybe just from a spectator’s viewpoint). Since Levi’s GranFondo, I’ve photographed four cyclocross races (three were part of the Sacramento Cyclocross series and the Halloween Surf City Cyclocross in Santa Cruz). Some of the work resulted in photos that I’m quite pleased with, but keep in mind that I can easily take 800 shots at one race over the course of a couple of hours. You’ll find a few of my favorites below.

Sacramento Cyclocross in Ione on October 24, 2010

Cody Kaiser of Cal Giant tackles the barriers at Surf City Cyclocross #1 on October 31, 2010.

Alex Candelario of Kelly Benefit/World Bicycle Relief powers up a levee at Sacramento Cyclocross in Acampo on November 21, 2010

Max Jenkins of United Healthcare got a little muddy at Sacramento Cyclocross #6 in Acampo on December 18, 2010.

Aside from photography and not riding, life has been consumed with work and dealing with the loss of a dear family member after a long battle with cancer. She was one of my first supporters for the LIVESTRONG Challenge in 2009 and I rode in her honor in 2010. I’ll be riding in her memory in 2011 when the LIVESTRONG Challenge moves to Davis, California. I’m looking forward to challenging myself with my first metric century (65 miles). However, I know that this challenge is nothing compared to what those fighting cancer are going through, like my friend Connie and her husband James who are both fighting for their lives and inspiring me every single day to try to make a difference, one pedal stroke at a time.

As the year comes to an end and I’m forced to look back at the goals I set for myself I have a crashing sense of failure because I feel like I’ve made very little progress. Then I tell myself that everything I listed in this blog as a goal for 2010 actually happened, with the exception of riding the Delta Century, which I forgot about due to very little training time in April and May.

So what have I accomplished?
• I photographed something around 12 difference races including, but not limited to, two stages of the Amgen Tour of California, the Merco Cycling Classic, Copperopolis Road Race, and the Nevada City Classic.
• I photographed George Hincapie at the Breakaway Ride and had the photos used on Bike Radar.
• I had a photo of Burke Swindlehurst from the Nevada City Classic published in the Bend Bulletin.
• I photographed and rode with Chris Horner… I also found out that he lives up to his reputation of being a really nice guy.
• I commuted by bike to a summer job, 9 miles one way. I commuted once to my full time teaching job during a teacher prep day, 17 miles one way. Yes, it was only once, but at least I tried it.
• I completed my longest ride ever, just over 50 miles at the LIVESTRONG Challenge.
• I had another go at Levi’s GranFondo and didn’t die, though Levi told me I looked like crap afterward and once again, Dylan Casey dropped me.
• And the best of my accomplishments… I made new friends, including a riding buddy that lives close enough for frequent rides.

Maybe 2010 wasn’t so bad after all, even if I am going out with a fizzle.

Now I’m looking forward to 2011 and starting to set new goals. I’m reminded of an interview about weight loss that I recently caught on TV. The expert being interviewed suggested that a person train for something. Don’t just decide to start jogging, but actually train for an event because it gives you a sense of purpose. I like to consider myself as being a fairly intelligent woman, but it was still good to hear that I’m already doing what the experts suggest. Last year my main goal was to train for the LIVESTRONG Challenge and Levi’s GranFondo. Those are still part of my goals for next year, but I’m upping the stakes a little bit.

Riding goals:
• July – LIVESTRONG Challenge, Davis, 65-mile route.
• August – Ride for a Reason, Folsom, ride until I’m tired. (For the Davis Phinney Foundation)
• October – Levi’s GranFondo… MEDIO route. Yes, that’s right, I’m upping the ante a bit and attempting to double my distance and get over my fear of Coleman Valley Road.

I’m saving the best for last. This is something that I’ve put a lot of thought into over the last few weeks. I’ve never thought it was something I was interested in trying, but as I’m starting to conquer longer distance riding, I think I might be ready to conquer higher intensity riding. Is my logic sound here or am I just dreaming?
• By January of 2012… join the LBS club, purchase a USA Cycling license and be ready to race… first up, Snelling Road Race (assuming it’s still around in 2012).

Photography goals:
• Continue photographing local races with hopes of being published.
• Photograph several stages of the Amgen Tour of California.
• Photograph USPros in Greenville, South Carolina in May.

I think I’m looking forward to 2011.

Postcard Perfect Fondo

Subtitled: Levi, a Few National Champs, McDreamy, the LCC, and Me
Sub-subtitled: We Now Know What it Takes to Beat Alberto Contador

A few weeks ago when I rode with Chris Horner he said to me, "Levi is always bragging about the weather in Santa Rosa, but everytime I'm there it's pouring rain."  His loss because while Chris was off racing in Europe, he missed some weather that was far from the sucky Tour of California and training camp downpours he's become accustomed to experiencing.

Another year of Levi Leipheimer’s King Ridge GranFondo is in the books. A day of fun in the sun and puke dodging descents. I can’t help but to feel a bit saddened by this. Well, the fun part, but I can do without the puke aspect of the day. I’ve been looking forward to this event with a mixture of excitement and trepidation since registering last December. Yes, that’s right… I hadn’t been looking forward to it since last October immediately following my first participation.

This year is different though and I simply can’t wait to return.

I could barely make out the start from where I was staged.

Last year was rough. I was unprepared and unfamiliar with the route. I’d only been riding a road bike for a month and didn’t have proper training under my belt. After deciding to return for round two, I took my training somewhat seriously. This year, I was prepared. Unfortunately, I always ended up stuck behind people that weren’t prepared.

This was the first time I’ve ever dropped people while climbing. I’m not strong in this department. Far from it. However, while I was pushing myself uphill I repeatedly said to myself, “It’s just like the elliptical. It’s just like the elliptical at the gym.” Knowing I can go for a long time on the elliptical, this mantra seemed to work in getting me through some tough spots.

It’s also the first time that I’ve ever seen so many cyclists on the road that the entire peloton comes to a complete halt for no reason other than the fact that there were too many riders that either couldn’t climb or couldn’t take a turn on a descent. It’s bound to happen when you have 6,058 cyclists on the tiny roads of Sonoma County.

Postcard perfect day in Sonoma County!

Regardless of the difficulties on the road with traffic, everyone was incredibly friendly and I didn’t once have SAG have to ask me if I was okay. People remained patient and outgoing throughout the entire ride. Of course, the real fun began once I returned to the festival.

I quickly found Martha Van of Action Wipes fame and she immediately saw to my cleanliness needs by handing me a refreshing wipe before I met up with another tweep, Chris, for the first time at Mama Duck’s home (aka, the Action Wipes booth). We gabbed about the ride and how the day was going, spent some time lounging in the shade, and explored the festival.

At one point in the afternoon, Martha says to me, “Michelle, there’s Levi!” I turned around and eventually found him visiting with a group two booths over. Martha talked me into going over there to have my picture taken with him. The conversation went something like this:

Martha: Excuse me; can we get your picture?
Levi: Oh, sure!
Eventually the photo is taken and Levi thanks us for coming.
Me: No, thank you for putting on this event!
Martha indicating to me: She rode too.
Levi looks me over: Oh, you look like it.

As Martha and I walked away, I turned to her and said, “Did Levi Leipheimer just say I look like crap?”  Martha will tell the story differently, but I'm pretty sure it was my physical appearance he was referring to and not the fact that I was still wearing my gear.  I mean, just because I'm wearing the clothes doesn't mean I ride.  Maybe I wear those clothes to work all of the time. 

There was more hanging around (and some mild stalking of Patrick Dempsey) until eventually it was time for Levi to address the crowd. Of course, I sat there taking a bunch of photos.

Levi and Patrick Dempsey were interviewed after the ride.

US National Champion, Ben King shared a few words too.

  

Levi's wife, Odessa Gunn, talks about Forget Me Not Farm and admits that she's afraid of kids.

One of the funnier moments of the interview was during the Q&A portion when a fan asked Levi, "What does it take to beat Alberto Contador?"  Without skipping a beat Levi responded, "Andy Schleck."

Biggest regret? I didn’t get photos of the @LCC_Cycling members @GregKnottLeMond, @MarthaVan, @jaowen, @budzilla1, @ChrisAGriffin, @HomeInspectorSR, @experiement626, @SDVeloSocial or any of the other wonderfully friendly folks I met along the way.

All in all... it was a very good day.  Now it's time to start training for the Medio.

More photos can be found here.

I Owe Someone $10

About a month ago, pro cyclist Chris Horner of Team RadioShack announced that he would be riding the Clark’s Corner Cycling Challenge in Ione, California, on September 18th. Knowing that Ione isn’t too far away, I went ahead and signed up for the short 10-mile ride with Chris.

My biggest concern was that I was signing up for this chance to ride with Chris, but in all likelihood wouldn’t actually ride along side of him. I even joked, “$10 says I can’t hang on for more than 30 seconds.” Maybe I was expecting something like Levi’s GranFondo where the pros all started at the front and took off, leaving those of us at the back without a prayer of riding with any of them. (Skip to the end for the Cliff Notes version of this story.)

In an interview Friday morning on a local TV station, Chris was asked a question that I submitted via Facebook. “Will you ride slowly enough for me to keep up?” Chris laughed and replied, “I can.” Being a teacher, I know there is a huge difference between “can” and “will,” but this didn’t make me any less excited that maybe my chances of keeping up weren’t as slim as I originally thought.

Though I wasn’t quite anticipating a ride on the scale of Levi’s GranFondo, I did expect there to be a couple hundred people there. Really, this was a chance to ride with the top placing American in this year’s Tour de France – an all around well-loved man with a constant smile plastered on his face. What cycling fan wouldn’t want a chance to ride with him even if the chances of riding with him were slim?

Keeping that in mind, and the fact that I’ve only ever been through Ione once, I headed up there in the morning and arrived about an hour early for the 11 AM ride. The plan was to get a chance to meet Chris briefly and have my picture taken with him. My mom is also a fan and I thought it would be funny to send her a photo of us without telling her any story of how it came to be.

When I checked in, I got a glimpse of the registration list. I was shocked to note that my class roster was longer than the registration for this ride. I have 31 students in my class. At that point, I realized that my chances of meeting Chris were guaranteed and the chances of riding along side of him were favorable.

Settling in to wait for the ride to start, I grabbed a coffee in Clark’s Corner and sat outside on the curb to enjoy it.

Chris arrived a few minutes later with a small group of cyclists, having ridden from Sacramento. I finished my coffee and timidly approached him, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he was having. Eventually I got my chance to meet him and have my photo taken with him then stood around and listened to him tell stories about his ride to Ione.

Chris chatted with fans, took pictures, and signed autographs.

Bikes outside of Clark's Corner - mine is on the far left and Chris's is right in front of it.

A little bit after 11:00, the ride started. The pace was quite slow and easy, but I was stuck behind three cyclists riding the span of the lane and couldn’t get by them to reach the front where Chris was mingling with some riders. After about five minutes, I found my way around them and quickly made my way up to Chris’s group, where I rode behind him for a couple of miles.

The pace was considerably slower than I normally ride and I found myself inching forward every couple of minutes and having to back off some. At one point as we were approaching a hill (not a real climb, but it was more than what I’m used to), the guy riding directly in front of me and next to Chris let off suddenly and dropped back. This was my cue to get out of my saddle and move forward in the group. Before I knew it, I was right along side of Chris, and even keeping up with him while going uphill. Before reaching the top, I did fall back from Chris but easily caught up with the group on the descent.

The weather and scenery were beautiful... I wonder what it looks like green.

As we were heading back towards Ione, I somehow ended up right next to Chris again. This time I ended up in a conversation with him. I kind of wasn’t expecting it, but I felt a hand tapping my shoulder as he was chatting away telling a story about his teammate, Levi Leipheimer. We chatted about the weather and I explained to him that the only reason it was nice was that everyone else was already in Greenville for the championships. We talked a little bit about the US Pro road race he’d be racing in the following day and I asked him how much travel he’d done over the last week, a question to which he didn’t know the answer except that it was more than normal. I’m currently kicking myself for not thinking to ask about cyclocross until I was on my way home.

The ride continued through landscape surrounding Ione without incident, except for the people we lost along the way because the rode in front of the guy leading the ride and took a wrong turn. As promised, I didn’t make Chris crash, nor did anybody else.

From the back of the group... not a lot of people at all. (There may have been some more behind me, but they were far back.)

He’s certainly every bit as friendly as everyone says he is. In fact, I think his approachability exceeded my expectations. He had a way of drawing people into conversations and making them feel like they were part of the group.  I can't believe I was part of that group.

I guess I owe someone $10.

When I arrived home, I promptly sent my mom a photo of Chris and me. She loved it and had a reaction similar to that of a 13-year-old girl if I’d just told her I met Justin Bieber.

More photos can be seen on my Flickr.

Bunny Goes "Bang!"

On numerous occasions, I’ve heard the saying, “There are two kinds of cyclists in this world: those who have crashed and those who will.” Since I started riding a road bike just over a year ago, I’ve prided myself in belonging to the second group. I chalked it up to riding defensively, quick reaction time, and moderate bike handling skills.

This isn’t to say I’ve never crashed a bike. When I was nine, I had an accident on an old 1973 Schwinn Varsity that would make Jens Voigt cringe and I have crashed my mountain bike out of pure stupidity. However, up until this morning, I’d never crashed my shiny new Trek.

Yes, that’s right… today I switched teams.

I’m not 100% sure how it all happened, but I was turning around on the bike trail and somehow lost my balance. There was no pedaling involved, I wasn’t hammering down, or even going at a high speed. Before I knew it, I fell to the right and was unable to clip out in time to put my foot down. It might have been the impact on the ground, again, I’m not certain, but when I picked myself up off the ground, I looked down and saw this:

Now, I’m clearly not a professional, or really all that experienced, but I’m pretty sure the cleat isn’t supposed to break off like that.

I rode the 8 km back to my car without being able to clip in and drove promptly to the LBS where they confirmed that the cleat shouldn’t snap off. They then told me that my cleats and shoes show more than the average wear and tear considering they have less than 1,000 km of use. Oh, and speaking of which, my shiny “new” Sidis are slightly damaged from the crash, with a small tear on the back of one of the shoes. Apparently, I’m destined to go through cleats and shoes at only a slightly slower pace than the rate at which I go through gloves.

As for the rest of me, I’m pretty sure I’m okay. There is only minor pain in my right thumb and my knee has a very small spot of “road rash” (a term I’m using lightly here) and a swollen bump. A few hours after the accident, I did start to experience some pain similar to that of having whiplash after a car accident, for which I promptly took a painkiller. Overall, I’m fine.

Tomorrow may be a different story.

Cows and More Cows

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit desperate for a new route to ride. The options are quite limited here if I expect to have decent pavement and a safe road. I’m not normally one to drive to a new location to ride, but since my summer break is coming to an end, I seized the day and drove out to Knight’s Ferry.

Mistake 1: I wasn’t feeling well that morning. It was a little breezy and my asthma was acting up. While Orange Blossom road doesn’t offer any real climbs, there are rolling hills and any type of hill can cause an issue when you can’t breathe and you left your inhaler at home.

Mistake 2: I could have parked on the Oakdale side of Orange Blossom and ridden the other direction into Knight’s Ferry, shaving off driving time and therefore reducing my irritation level by the time I arrived.

While the ride was more or less a bust, I’m looking at it as yet another learning experience. I’ll be back when I have improved my riding abilities and I’m feeling better.

Mooooo!

On my return from Knight’s Ferry, I took East River Road back into Modesto from Oakdale. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. Not because anything spectacular happened, but I realized that this road is perfect for riding. There are few cars on the road, most of it is wide with bike lanes, and cyclists frequent the route. Yes, I ride it all of the time. I just don’t usually ride this section of the road. That is, until last weekend.

It was a typically beautiful Saturday morning and I hit the road early to beat the heat. I didn’t really have any idea how far I would ride, but that’s the brilliance of an out and back ride. I ride until I’m tired, but not so tired I can’t continue, and then turn around. Before I knew it, I was in Oakdale, 25 km from home. After a brief stop for a snack (and to talk to cows), I turned around and headed home.

Looking out over the Stanislaus River

This guy came over and sniffed my saddle when I leaned my bike against the fence

Weee!

I saw many other cyclists out (only one other woman this time), most of which were friendly enough to wave. Once I was back into the city, a rider pulled up next to me at a stop light and we actually had a conversation about our rides for the day as we rode the next kilometer or so. That’s the kind of behavior that fosters a community of like-minded people. It’s funny how the little things can make or break your day.

In completely unrelated ride news... look what photo was in the Bend Bulletin a couple of weeks ago!
Cyclist is a Cascade veteran

"Cobblestone" Milestone

I thrive on challenges, and by analyzing my difficulties on the bike, I learn how to overcome them. It gives me a feeling accomplishment so I can move onto a new challenge, like climbing longer, pedaling faster, or riding further.

On my most frequent riding route, there is a particular stretch of road that lasts for approximately 0.75 km. It’s some of the worst pavement on which I’ve had the misfortune to ride. In fact, it’s so poorly paved and repaired, that there are rather large weeds growing out of the cracks in the asphalt. In one instance, I had to stop and remove sticky gravel that had lodged itself between my tire and fork, preventing my wheel from turning. In short, the road is a cyclist’s nightmare.

This week, while watching the Tour de France, announcers mentioned that the best way for riders to tackle the cobbles is to get into a big gear and in essence gun it while keeping a loose grip on the handlebars. This way, the bike more or less decides where to go. I’ve always kept a loose grip; otherwise, I end up with no feeling in my hands. However, my speed typically decreases dramatically when I hit this section. Instead, I struggle forward, frustrated and tired, cursing the public works department for poor road maintenance. Today, as an alternative to just continuing at a normal pace and releasing a string of words that would make a sailor blush, I shifted to the big ring and hammered my way through the horror with my teeth tightly clenched. Much to my delight (and likely the dismay of my dentist), it worked. My thighs were on fire by the time I reached the other side, but I got there swiftly and unscathed. Who says you can’t learn anything by watching sports on television?

The last few months have been ones of discoveries for me. My perception of poor pavement has changed significantly since I first started riding a road bike and I no longer fear wind as long as it’s not gusty. With very little thought or concern, I tackle small inclines that once made me grumble. Though I probably spend far more time worrying about my riding technique than anybody who isn’t a racer should, I feel this narcissistic tendency has made me a more confident and enthusiastic rider.

There are currently four more days before the LIVESTRONG Challenge, the event that I’ve been preparing for all winter and spring. Yes, I’m nervous, but I keep telling myself that if I take it easy and pace accordingly, I’ll be fine. I have no idea if this will work, but between that and recognizing the growth I’ve made over the last year and a half back on a bike, I find it keeps me calm so I can sleep at night. Although, I certain Saturday night will require some help.

It's Business Time

I was recently horrified when I took a moment to look back at my workout calendar and noticed that I hadn’t ridden my bike since May 15th. I’d like to blame it on weather or a busy work schedule for the last few weeks until school let out, but I’m 94.37% certain it was laziness. Oh well, too late to do anything about that.

Now it’s time to make a genuine effort in my preparations for the San Jose LIVESTRONG Challenge. I have one month to train for a 50 mile ride, a distance I have never ridden before. Am I freaked out? Um… are Smurfs blue?

I finally got out on my bike yesterday. I did a moderately easy and short route, just trying to get some miles back into my legs. A breeze slowed me down, but now that I’ve learned I can handle a steady breeze, I just thought of it as “invisible hills.” Today was more of the same, only I added about 5 km to the route. The last 6 km were used purely for my own amusement of seeing how fast I could go. Apparently going flat and all out, I can get up to 40.1 kmh, but I can’t maintain it. I did maintain about 37 kmh for a while - pesky stop signs.

Tomorrow I return to work for the next two weeks. Not my regular job, but similar. Lucky for me, the school is close to where I live, I think about 14 km, so I’ll be commuting by bike. This is my first attempt at anything like this. My biggest hope is that I arrive safely with enough time to clean up a bit before class starts. Will the students find it stupid or cool that I rode my bike? We’ll find out tomorrow.

Tour of California Week, Part III: Let the Race Begin!

Tour of California Week, Part I
Tour of California Week, Part II

Having found a comfortable spot on the corner to watch the race, I waited patiently for the coverage to begin on the screen that was across the street. When 2:00 PM rolled around, we had no video and there was no sound. Desperately wanting to know what was going on, I called my parents to ask. My mom wasn’t much help. Luckily, a man sharing the corner used his fancy phone to look up what was going on in the race. (I could have done that had Verizon gotten my fancy new Palm Pre Plus working, but no such luck after a week of trying.) I was excited to hear that Paul Mach was in the break.

Shortly before 3:00, we still had no video and little idea what was going on, but I did get to watch Kathleen King (@bikechik) create one of her fabulous bike scribbles.

Happily, shortly after 3:00, the video started working, but we still had no sound. No use worrying about it. The boys rolled in at about 3:45 to complete a few laps of the circuit before the big finish. On the ground with my camera poised, they flew passed. Kelly Benefit leading the charge followed closely by the HTC-Columbia train.

HTC-Columbia setting up Mark Cavendish for the win

With my finger pressed to the shutter release, my camera fired off photo after photo, working exactly as it should have been.

Levi Leipheimer and Chris Horner of Team RadioShack

After Cavendish took the stage win, most of the riders made there way by again. I was able to get some additional shots at this time when the action slowed down. Turns out some of my favorites were in that group.

Chris Butler of BMC Racing... one of my favorite shots for the day

A hairier than usual Andy Jacques-Maynes of Bissell

When the riders had cleared the course, I headed down the block and a half to the podium to try to get a few shots of the presentations. This was the first time I ever bothered to do this. While I missed the presentation of the “gold” jersey to Cavendish, I did catch the King of the Mountains presentation to Paul Mach. He had many supporters in the crowd that day and it seemed to be a truly proud moment.

Paul Mach would start stage 2 in Davis (where he calls home) sporting a fancy red jersey

At the conclusion of the podium presentations, it was time to hunt down D’Andrea (@deedee315) who would be the first of several “tweeps” I’d meet during the course of the week ahead. We joined up with Martha Van (@marthavan of Action Wipes fame), whom I’d actually met briefly before at Levi’s GranFondo and headed to get some drinks. They are both absolute sweethearts and I enjoyed a relaxing evening with the ladies before being forced to head back to the parental unit’s home to pick up my car and bike and make the long drive home.

Additional stage 1 photos from Sacramento here and here (Lifestyle Festival, including some serious bike porn).
 
Hmm... I think I might finally be getting the hang of this photography thing.
 
Next up: Tour of California Week, Part IV: Memorable Modesto

Tour of California Week, Part I

Like many other cycling fans, I’ve waited well over a year for the Tour of California to roll around again. The waiting was brutal. Now that it’s here, like any other fun event in a person’s life, it is passing us by much too quickly.

My experience this year with the race has been one of great anticipation and excitement. Although it all started weeks ago, the most memorable moments began when I decided to head up to the parental unit’s home outside of Sacramento to visit before catching the finish of stage 1 in Sacramento. I hauled Zippy along with me and we hit the American River Bike Trail (ARBT) for a relaxing afternoon spin.

When I ride in the city in which I currently reside (more or less against my will), I seldom see cyclists out. Even on really nice days, I can ride 40 km and not see a single rider. On the rare occasion that I do see someone else out on his or her trusty steed, I find that I get incredibly (well, stupidly) excited. However, when I ride the ARBT, the path is absolutely teeming with cyclists (and squirrels). Oddly enough, I think that even though I ride solo, seeing others out on the road/trail inspires me. It makes me a better rider. I have more endurance, drive, passion… I even smile when I ride, but nothing really prepared me for that day’s experience.

I’ve been having a tough time with my riding. Illnesses, poor weather conditions, and a busy work schedule have cut my riding time drastically. Optimism wasn’t part of my emotional range that day when I headed out. Thinking that perhaps I would get in about 15 km, I hit the trail at what wasn’t exactly a leisurely effort for me.

Soon I found out that I felt great, mind and body, despite putting in extra effort. The other riders out on the path, the beautiful weather, and the excitement of the Tour energized me. I could feel it in the air. About a third of the way into my ride, I looked down to check my computer. When I looked back up, I got an eyeful of argyle in time trial position coming at me from the opposite direction.

Yep, a Garmin-Transitions rider. More excitement to feed off… *pedal pedal*

At 20 km, I decided to turn around and head back as not to worry the parental unit. I stopped briefly and heard a noise in the brush on the side of the trail. Turning to look, I saw two deer grazing in the grass. While preparing to snap a shot with my phone, I was distracted once again by Mr. Argyle Armada heading back in the opposite direction. He had picked up a bit of an entourage at this point.

Yep, once again an exciting day, but I’m not sure it could compare to what was coming.

Oh, and I never did get a picture of those deer.

(And yes, as the title suggests, there are more parts to this story...)

Goodbye Mr. Illness, Hello Mr. Rain

On Monday the 15th of March, it became apparent why I had so much difficulty on the group ride the day before (aside from the wind and distance). Mr. Illness decided to set up camp in my lungs and because of squatter’s rights, I’ve had a hard time kicking him out. I managed to struggle through the workweek fighting a fever, severe cough, and chronic fatigue. I then spent last weekend in bed watching DVD’s. It’s a shame too because for the last two weeks the weather has been stereotypical for California. Simply beautiful.

Today marks the first full day of Spring Break in my neck of the woods. I’ve been looking forward to a week in the saddle (shirking all other responsibilities like cleaning my apartment) pending Mr. Illness finding somewhere else to live. Zippy and I made huge plans too, including a trip to Monterey for riding, shoe shopping, and just spending time with a good friend. However, things often don’t work out as planned. The forecast for the coming week includes rain starting Monday and continuing through the week.

Because of the impending bad weather, I decided to hit the road today and enjoy being outside while it’s nice, even if that meant coughing and hacking my way through a short ride. This is exactly what I did.

Regardless of the hacking, I felt really good through the entire ride, even while battling the wind that caught me off guard a couple of times. I got pretty toasty about halfway through and stopped to remove my warmers despite having not put on any sunscreen (or having bothered to shave). It’s a real shame that this weather can’t last my entire vacation.

I’m feeling a 35-40 km ride coming on tomorrow.

Out of the Comfort Zone and Into the Fire

Today I embarked on my very first group ride (not including charity rides). I met up with five other riders and headed out for a flat and easy 50 mile ride in the Delta. Having never attempted a ride of this distance, I was a bit apprehensive. Worse, I was riding with much more experienced riders. Not only that, but they were people I had never met. I was more than a little nervous. However, my normally crippling shyness was obliterated once I actually arrived, as they were all very friendly and encouraging.

One big bonus of participating in this ride is that rider #5 was actually in a car following behind us and providing SAG. This alleviated some anxiety regarding technical issues and the possibility that I wouldn’t be able to ride the distance successfully. It also made me feel like a bit of a rock star.

We rolled out at about 9 am. At first, I didn’t have any issues keeping up, but I think the pace was a bit slower than what was originally planned. The morning was brisk with a light breeze that soon turned into a nasty crosswind. I normally avoid wind so this was a new experience for me. However, riding with a group allowed me to use the other riders to my benefit. Regardless, I about pooped out half way through the ride and couldn’t get my groove back. It wasn’t at all a concern with cardio (or the fact that I have asthma), but more that the muscles in my legs decided they’d had enough. It didn’t help that I kept thinking that my seat was too low and my knee was causing pain at one point.

At mile 35, the other woman in the group and I decided that we’d switch out so her husband could ride and we drove the remaining miles back to where we parked. Despite my botched attempt at 50 miles, I feel somewhat accomplished by the 35 miles I did ride since the last time I was on the bike was two weeks ago.

I’m now looking back and troubleshooting my ride. Why was I “too pooped to pop” after only about 25 miles? I have a lot of work to do before I’m ready to attempt a metric century or successfully ride the LIVESTRONG Challenge. Strength and endurance need to be gained, more weight needs to be lost, and I need to acquire some hill climbing skills.

When "The Buddy System" Fails

I was in third grade the first time I went to a movie with a friend and no adult supervision. I remember two things about that day. The first being that we saw Annie. The second thing being that our mothers lectured us on sticking together and that meant if one of us had to use the bathroom during the movie then we both went.

We’re all familiar with “The Buddy System” since we’ve had it hammered into our heads since we were young. I’m pleased to announce that while I don’t need a friend, no matter how close of a friend, to accompany me to the bathroom anymore, I do find myself in situations where “The Buddy System” is recommended if not essential. Yes, twenty something years after my very first memory of using “The Buddy System” I’m still using it in ways.

However, what do we do when we don’t have a buddy to accompany us on a ride (or run, walk, hike, whatever activity floats your boat)? As a single woman living in a somewhat ghetto-ish city, I’ve given this a lot of thought. Safety is my number one priority when I’m out on a ride and because I have no friends who are roadies I ride solo 99% of the time. In fact, the only time I’m not alone is if I’m participating in a charity ride or if I’m mountain biking.

The obvious solution to said dilemma would be to join a club. However, as a person who is painfully shy this isn’t something I feel is an option. I’m also a little embarrassed about my sometimes questionable bike handling skills and my probable inability to maintain the same pace as a group of more seasoned riders.

That being said, I’ve come up with some tips/strategies that give me some peace of mind when out on the road.  These are things that for some reason didn't occur to me when I first started riding again last winter and if even one person can benefit, then this post is worth it.  They are above and beyond the obvious like knowing traffic laws, wearing a helmet, carrying water, and keeping your bike well maintained.

1. Carry a cell phone with phone numbers of friends who have already said they’d be willing to pick you up if you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of being stranded. Nothing ruins a good ride like having to walk 15 miles (or 24.14 km for the #LCC or those who otherwise use metric) home. Bonus if it’s a camera phone because then you can take pictures of interesting things you may see on your ride, just don’t do this when riding.

2. Know your bike and how to make basic repairs and adjustments such as fixing a dropped chain or a flat. Carry the necessary tools to do this such as spare tubes, patch kit, pump, levers, etc. Carry an allen wrench set for saddle or pedal adjustments even though you shouldn’t need it if your bike is properly fit in the first place, but I’m a fiddler. Last, but not least, I also carry pair of latex gloves because I hate getting chain grease on my fingers then on the bar tape or inside my riding gloves and ruining a good manicure. Again, nothing ruins a good ride like having to hoof it home or back to the car.

3. Don’t just carry identification – wear it. Many companies out there make medical identification bracelets, tags, etc. I wear a RoadID. The idea is that your bike, helmet, clothing, etc. might not make it to the emergency room, but an ID on your body will (and if your limbs aren’t making it to the ER, then not having and ID on you is the least of your worries). And hey, if it’s good enough for Levi Leipheimer, it’s good enough for me (see his right wrist... he's been seen "wearing it" because it's who he is).

Paul Mach and Levi Leipheimer at the Nevada City Classic in June 2009

4. Carry a small coin purse type thing with the following items: Driver’s license, or other photo ID for when you get pulled over for violating traffic laws that you studied but have chosen to ignore; Cash in case you find the need to stop at Starbucks, refuel at Chipotle, or visit your LBS for repairs; ATM card in case your find yourself in need of a larger sum of money (see previous comment re: stopping at LBS); and Health insurance card even though the information is on an ID worn on your body. I also keep my house key in this and it goes into my jersey pocket, not my bike’s saddlebag in case I get jumped by one of the ghetto-folk who keeps asking me what my bike cost and they steal my ride.

5. Know your limits. When planning a loop route, make sure you know you can do the distance and any climbing involved. If you’re doing an out and back, it’s much easier to turn around when you feel like you’re getting tired, but on a loop sometimes there is no way to take a shortcut.

6. Know the roads. Unless I’m cutting through a neighborhood on a whim, I stick to routes I know. If you’re considering a new route, take the time to drive it first. Are there bike lanes and if not, for how long? What is the condition of the pavement? Is there a lot of traffic, light traffic, or none at all? Take note of construction zones, speed limits, and the kind of vehicular traffic. Are there places to stop for water? Will you be in cell phone range? Could you give a friend directions to the location if you were to find yourself stranded? If it doesn’t look safe, you may want to find someplace else to ride.

No bike lane, little traffic, far from civilation, 13 miles from home... ironically, I dropped my chain about 50 yards ahead.

My basic point is that if you take measures to make yourself feel safer, you're more likely to get out and ride.  And as the great Eddy Merckx said, "Ride as much or as little, as long or as short as you feel.  But ride."

I should note that while I also ride a mountain bike I never go mountain biking alone. I prefer to keep to roads where there is some sort of traffic (“witnesses”) in case of an emergency ("eating asphault").

Now… where did I put that RoadID?

New Year, New Attitude

I'm not 100% sure why I've decided to start a new blog. I already have another one that's kept very private. This one won't be. Here is where you’ll find modest tales from my life. Not that it’s an exciting one, but I can be enthusiastic about it.

I’ve already decided to dedicate this blog to a couple of my favorite obsessions – photography and cycling – generally not two activities that I do simultaneously, but I have been known to.

Odds are that you’ll read anecdotes of my feeble attempts to photograph cycling as well. This endeavor stems from a trip to the 2009 Tour of California. I was fortunate enough to have a cold, rainy week off in February of last year and decided to watch the local stage in an attempt to get photos of Lance Armstrong.

Results? Crappy photos of professional cyclists (holy cow they’re fast!) and a rekindled passion for the sport.

This is when the downward spiral began. Before I knew it I had purchased two new bikes, both road and mountain, had begun participating in charity rides, and was traveling out of town to photograph races. Thousands of dollars and hundreds of sluggishly pedaled miles later, I think it’s safe to say that I’m addicted.

In fact, I was informed just the other day that I’m a #cyclingdiva. At first, I denied it, but all of the symptoms are there:
• Traveling out of town to go to races
• Stalking Following pro cyclists on twitter
• Speculating on rider transfers
• Noticing names missing from team rosters (in my defense, it would have been last alphabetically, how could I not miss it?)
• Thinking up stupid pet names based on pro cyclists (e.g. “Dave Zabarkskie,” “David Meowllar,” and “Levi Hopheimer.”)
• Learning to knit argyle for the sole purpose of creating a Garmin messenger bag
• Signing up for and riding in Levi Leipheimer’s King Ridge GranFondo (Okay, only the Piccolo, but Graton Road kicked my butt!)

The signs were there 15 years ago as well; I just didn’t see them as warning signs. I should have known there was a problem when I purchased as my very first brand new car, a Saturn. Yes, the fact that they sponsored a cycling team did have something to do with my decision. Should I be surprised that the actual cycling team outlasted the car? Probably not.

Anyhow, back to the topic of my very first blog entry (not that I was ever on topic anyhow…). Despite some ups and downs for 2009, I feel that I had a pretty good year. I’m usually very cynical and I complain. A lot. However, cycling is quite literally changing my life. I’m healthier, happier, and more positive about life than I probably have been in decades, I’m in love with my bikes, and I did finally get a good photo of Lance Armstrong.

Now I don’t make “resolutions” because I associate those with broken promises. Instead, I set goals. My goals build on what I’ve already started so as long as I continue what I’m doing, I should continue see progress. No new routines. No impossible expectations. Just me continuing with a lifestyle change that I know is working out for me.

Velo related goals for 2010:
• April – photographing the Copperopolis Road Race
• May – Delta Century (metric)
• May – photographing the Tour of California with some level of success
• July – LIVESTRONG Challenge, San Jose, 50 mile course
• October – Levi Leipheimer’s King Ridge GranFondo, Piccolo route and this time I’m kicking Graton Road’s butt
• In general, drop some more pounds because when you’re climbing a hill, the extra weight is so not your friend!

Stay tuned to see how I do.