Weekend warriors

I have a raging head cold.  R A G I N G.  But since it's still just above my shoulders, I figured that I should get out and ride both days over the weekend.  Especially since the weather was so nice and who knows how long that'll last...

Wow, what a bunch of boorish riders out.  BOTH days.  Many have a pet peeve of wheel suckers.  I say, if you can hold my wheel and dodge the snot rockets (allergies + cold = messy), my wheel is yours.  What annoys me more than anything is when people take themselves so seriously that they can't bother to call out "on your left", "great day, isn't it?" or just plain "hi" when passing.  When did every other cyclist become "the enemy"?  I found this was exclusive to men.  ALL weekend.  WTF?

Now, with a head cold, I'm doing the good old, Z1/Z2 ride.  Trying to keep my heart rate at a reasonable level, trying to get outside, and trying to get some fresh air and exercise.  I expect to be passed, a lot.  And I was.  But I swear to you, not a single person said a thing to me on Saturday (only one person did on Sunday).  Both days had interesting surprises, so let's just start with Saturday.

On my way home, on Foothill (home of the Foothill Olympics), I catch a gaggle of men at a traffic light.  I wasn't sure if they were all together, or what, but most of them were dressed in street clothes:  shorts, t-shirts and tennis shoes.  One guy had clip-in shoes.  Frankly, I don't care, I just noticed.  A few were wobbly, so I tried to roll up by them and get closer to the front, so I didn't get entangled once everyone started wobbling forward.  I got through and was happily in Z2 when one of those guys buzzed me.  He never said a word.  But I could tell by his body language that he was turning himself INSIDE OUT.  Hey buddy, good for you, but I'm in Z2...  He got further up the road, but Foothill being Foothill, he got stopped at a light.  I got closer.  I got stopped at a light.  Then he hit another red that I caught green, and the next thing you know, I'm on top of him.  Why do people ride the white line?  I never, ever assume I'm fastest, and stay over to the right to get out of the way (esp for distracted motorists who sometimes drive the white line because I guess the car lane isn't wide enough for their bad driving or something).  I digress.  Dude is flailing and as Phil would say, "He's all over his machine", and with that, he's kind of all over the bike lane too.  I check the car lane:  clear.  So I pass him, making sure to squeak out (my voice is going in and out with this cold):  "On your left".  I roll on.  Shoot, out of zone!  So I slow up a bit. Well, the guy is flailing along behind me, trying to catch and pass me.  Seriously?  I check and wait till he's about 1/2 a bike length back, then I just dropped the hammer on him.  Didn't sprint.  Didn't attack.  Just drilled it and rode away from him.  "Pass me now, b*tch".  :o)  Z5 does not equal Z2, sorry coach, but that boy needed to be schooled.  I hit the turn lane and rode home, gently.  Shortly afterwards, I dropped my cough drop, grabbed a handful of front brake and nearly ate it.  Oops.  It's a cough drop for crying out loud!

Sunday was more of the same, but I forced myself to not be so damned competitive.  I ran into two other guys at Woodside when I was getting water that afternoon, and all 3 of us commiserated about the same thing:  rude riders.  I even heard/watched the one compliment a guy on his bike.  Dude just ignored him and rode away.  ???  There's a chance he didn't hear him, or a chance he was just an unpleasant person.  But I don't understand that mentality.  If someone waves, you wave back.  If someone nods, you nod back.  You let a rider know you're passing and it doesn't have to be mean or sarcastic.  A simple "hi" is sufficient.

When did bike riders become the enemy to OTHER BIKE RIDERS?

Heck with 'em all.  I still had an enjoyable weekend on the bike.  But I also still have this cold.  Big bummer!

Team 7-Eleven Book Talk on 2/23/2012

Bicycle Outfitter, Los Altos, CA, 2/23/2012 @ 7 p.m. I'd been looking forward to this talk/book signing for weeks. Ever since my friend from church invited me. A chance to hear Davis Phinney talk about the good old days. I'd heard he was funny, poignant. I couldn't wait!

Then work got busy. Out-of-control busy. The night fast approached, and my workload increased. I freaked. In the back of my mind, I hoped I could make it, but reality told me that it wasn't going to happen. Just too much to do, with impending deadlines, and running out of time.

Fortunately, Gary sent me an email Thursday afternoon. Was I still coming? Oh man. "Things aren't looking good. I will try to make it, but probably not.". Fortunately, he wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

I grabbed everything on my desk, packed it up, stopped at the pharmacy on the way home, ate dinner, took the dog out and went to the event for awhile. I figured I could leave early and work from home when I was done.

Once there, I didn't want to leave! There was a short video about the team. Racing. Commentary. Video of Jim Ochowicz with a mustache. Phil Liggett with hair!!! (I know!) Stories of how 7-11 made it to Europe. How they were blamed for the crashes. How they would arrive minutes before the start of the race (oh, how I know how that feels... ugh!). Davis was apparently in rare form and was so damned funny! The entire room was cracking up and the laughter was contagious. Davis told us a story (one of MANY) about an Italian race where he got dropped with another few guys. He was left with a backpack of his stuff and had to find a way to the finish. He was with a Belgian, who opted to ride to the finish (as annunciated by Davis in a Belgian accent, "I'll ride to the feenish"), but he tried to find another way with the few stragglers left with him. They found a "freeway", but weren't allowed on it due to the toll road. So Davis asked permission to look at the traffic coming the other way (after waiting for quite some time), and to his horror, after all the time it took to arrive at the road, the team cars were screaming back to the town they were all staying in! They were stranded. Luckily, someone saw him, or the toll booth operator reported a crazy American at the toll booth, and a team car came back to retrieve him. One guy left with him, begged for a ride back to the town they were staying in!

Of course, Davis told the story about a thousand times funnier than I can relate, and the room was in tears from all of the laughter. Quite the amusing story.

He also told a really great story about Bob Roll, who has always gotten on my last good nerve. The story changed my perception of Mr. Roll, 100%. Bob had learned perfect Italian much faster than the rest of the team, and in a cafe, some Italians were fascinated with the Americans. They kept asking Bob who was the leader of the team, or the captain. Bob's response: "We're all the team leaders." I rescind most every disparaging thing I've thought about Bob. Except the hand gestures. Those still get on my nerves. :)

I hated so much to leave. But I had to work at home. HAD TO. I bought a book, and left it with my friend to get signed. And then I went home and worked till 10:30.

This was a night I wont' soon forget. Very, very entertaining. Thankfully, I stepped away from the work and deadline madness to attend this talk. Totally worth it. If they come to your town to sell the book and do this talk? GO. Don't hesitate. You won't regret it. You'll laugh yourself silly and walk away with a renewed passion for the sport, and a massive appreciation for what those guys went through all those years ago. Paving the way for the newer Americans in the Grand Tours.

Bravo!

The weight loss challenge is ON!

Every year for the past 4 or 5 years, my friend MaryEllen and I embark on a weight-loss program. Always begins at the official end of road season, the glorious "off season". Last year, we started it a bit early, as I had surgery and wanted to start the week of the surgery, due to the sheer volume of snack food that was available to me at work. I needed 2 weeks away from all of that crap before I could really resist it. That worked. It only took 1 week of longing, sideways glances before I was able to steer clear, and continue down the road to a lighter body.

Well, the challenge takes us into the holidays (accck), and into the new year, when racing begins all over again. Both of us reached reasonable losses, but neither achieved the lauded: GOAL WEIGHT.

Here we are in October. Both of us are at the same weight as January. Yeah, generally good not to gain it all back again, but this is the dreaded plateau. Ugh. For nearly 10 months, maintaining has been pretty easy. The first 3 weeks were fine. But I didn't drop a single pound. ME fluctuated a bit, but was generally heading in the right direction. My body is stubborn. Really stubborn. I actually gained a pound one week (sh*t), but quickly got rid of it again... What to do now? I had to employ serious tactics in order to start dropping weight:

• Restrict ANY and ALL junk (stopped eating any candy,chocolate and/or chips)
• Learn how to go hungry without getting into that weird "I'm so hungry I could eat my shoe" place... That's a fine line - trust me.
  
• Employ drastic measures: my brain

Back when I was bodybuilding, the diet was the worst part for me. The WORST. I could lift weights, run, do whatever for however long, but when it came to dropping the necessary body fat needed to compete? Just shoot me. I remember being at shows, and someone would step out into the harsh lights, and the first thing that came to mind: "Damn. He/she should have dieted for another 8 weeks...". I never wanted anyone to say that about me! You're standing on stage, wearing 4 teensey triangles of fabric, under the harshest lights EVER (makes dressing rooms look weak, in comparison), and the last thing you want is for someone to see that Snickers bar you scarfed down a few weeks ago, planted firmly on your butt cheek. Sounds harsh, but it was a tough sport. Nobody cared what you looked like 6 months ago, how far you'd progressed, it only mattered what you looked like, for those 5 minutes (or so) you were standing on stage in a bikini. Nothing else mattered. You had to have a really thick skin... Totally unhealthy, for sure, and I blame that lifestyle for making it so darned hard for me to drop any weight now that I have a normal, healthy diet, but it was necessary to be that way for the sport. Of course, I had no butt back then, and was utterly unable to sit at the bus stop the last month or so before a contest, because any fat stores were just gone. Pfft. Just like that. But my brain was the most effective tool in my arsenal for dropping weight back then.

I'm using it once again. Much like the fear of being seen naked, the fear of "if I put this in my mouth, where will it end up on my body?" and "do I really NEED that? Or am I just wanting to eat something?"... Hey, it works for me. The weight is coming off now, FINALLY! All it takes for me is that first pound to be lost, then I'm on a roll... I won't eat the roll, but I'm on one. :o) And this time, I'm going for that elusive: super-stretch goal. I'm just 2 pounds from my goal as I write this, and it will be 4 to that weight which I've not weighed in over 10 years. When I get there, the first thing I want to go do is climb some big hill on my bike. Then I'll probably have to buy some new jeans, because even the skinny jeans are starting to be less and less snug...

Even using a scale, jeans are the better indicator of weight loss. They either fit, or they don't. No getting around it! I may have to go buy a new pair or two sooner than the holidays... Now that's an awesome dilemma!

Real Roadkill Ride

Sorry, no actual pics! Just a cruise from Woodside Town Hall to Los Altos and back, with a few loops in Palo Alto (where I kept wanting to count one dead skunk, multiple times, due to the "loop" I was riding...).

- 1 dead skunk (pee-yew)
- 2 dead squirrels
- 1 dead something-or-other (it was picked pretty clean and was unable to be identified)

Let's just say the dead skunk did NOT look like this --->

Roadkill Ride

Met a friend of mine (IronCLM) in Livermore yesterday for a ride. Started late @11 a.m., but gave me the chance to sleep in!

I think the East Bay must be tops in road kill for the Bay Area. I see a lot of dead stuff on the Peninsula and around the South Bay but not like East Bay. I admit that I got distracted by all of the live, and CRAZY squirrels racing next to us, across fields, across the roads (EGAD), and was also distracted by their "cute factor"... Why do their tails twitch when they run? I know. A squirrel is a rodent. But it's a cute rodent. :o)

Many mangled little bodies out there. So much so, that I lost count. I did not see any dead snakes, which was a relief since I saw a baby dead one around here the other day (forget where).


I did get a pretty cool pic of the a few turbine blades for the windmills. They were parked along 580 and holy crap. They're HUGE. I got a photo with my camera phone of a man walking next to them - for scale.
I'm glad I grabbed the pics, as I nearly fell over riding past 'em! I just wonder how much work it is to put a windmill up, esp given the size of these puppies. They don't look this huge from a distance, for sure!

All in all, a pretty darned good day, even if I did lose track of the roadkill. But dang, it was warm. I drank FOUR bottles out there!!!!!!

TGIF!

This has been an insane week, to say the least. I'm exhausted from applying for jobs, interviewing on the phone, and studying for the phone interviews! This week alone, I applied to 9 jobs, and had phone interviews with 4 different companies, one on each day this week (except today. Yay!). Yesterday, consisted of two phone interviews, with the SAME company (One screen, with their recruiter. The 2nd: a technical phone interview with the hiring manager.). Usually I have a few days to prepare for the tech interviews (as in the one I have next Wednesday afternoon - I'll start that later today and work on this weekend and early next week). This time, I had just a few hours.

My average rate of return on applications has been about 20%. Last week fit this model perfectly: I sent out 10 applications, heard back from 2. This week has had slightly higher numbers, with 9 out, 3 in. 30%. WHOOT. I guess the days of hearing from everyone are long gone... sigh.

In any case, since I have the "day off", I am going for a ride! I was supposed to do this ride yesterday, but hadn't accounted for the doubling-up interviewing - finding a job is more important! Then I get to ride all weekend! I haven't done a "roadkill count" ride for awhile, so maybe I'll try that! Have seen lots of flattened squirrels and black birds, and even a little, squished snake these past few weeks...

Enjoy the weekend everyone!

TGIF

1:30 on a Friday. I don't want to be in the office. I want to be outside, or home doing laundry, or taking a nap. Or heck, even grocery shopping, which I have to do on my way home, else I cannot eat tonight or have a cup of coffee before I drive out to BF Egypt for a bike race. Better stop at the store...

Lots been going on. Finally took the plunge to FaceBook and as I was warned: what a time suck! Egad. I swore off any more of those dumb FB quizzes, but sometimes they really ARE fun. Especially on a day like today!

The move was fine. A rough transition though. Probably harder on my dog than me. I've lived alone for her entire life. Then I move into a multi-level town-home, with a male roommate (just a roommate, trust me), I take the dog's couch away and force her to be a dog and sleep in her dog bed and not on the furniture anymore, and the roommate is grumpy. Oh dear God. He is exactly like my step-Dad. Just a younger version. How can that be? Did I not learn enough life lessons living at home till I was 18? Jeesh. My dog gets a wee bit out of sorts when she's around my loud, obnoxious, negative, grumpy Dad, and we only visit once every few years. You can imagine her horror to having to live with that on a daily basis. She had an accident in the house the first week or so. Yikes! She NEVER has accidents. Ever. I was grateful for the carpet cleaner I'd purchased a few years ago, so I cleaned it up and vowed to keep her in my bedroom while I was out of the house. She'd had runny poop for almost the entire first week, and now she'd stopped drinking water. So I drowned her food with water, since her appetite seemed unaffected and this was my way of forcing water into her system. Well, now it's over a week, and I'm packed and ready to go race my MTB at Sea Otter. I decided to take the dog with me, just so I could keep an eye on her, and our last visit to the grass produced a bunch of bloody poops. Not good. I ended up calling the vet in tears, and begged them to get her in. Turned out it was just nerves, but she was dehydrated and they gave her a big shot of fluid under her skin, and sent us home with a bottle of doggy valium. She mostly slept it off and was a bit leary of the roommate for a long time (she's only started to come around him now, 4 months later!), but she was fine.

The roommate situation was pretty tough for me too. I've lived alone for almost 2 decades, and the last person I lived with was my ex-husband, Satan. Well, he had a name, but I prefer the nickname. It's more suitable. 4 months later, those things have mostly worked out. I still think he's the most OCD person on the planet, but I know him better and can give him grief for the stuff that used to completely freak me out. However, I came home the other night from work, and for whatever reason, he was in the office downstairs where we put bikes. He opened the door just as I was going to open it and there he stood: in a speedo. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!! To his credit, he did try to cover up, but I'm sort of wondering what the hell he was doing in there, and he left in his car a few min later. I'm really hoping he put pants on first. I don't think I'll ask about that, because I really just don't want to know...

The red stapler guy is out of the picture. Completely. He apparently decided that he didn't want to see me anymore, but instead of being a man and talking to me about it, he just vanished. Not the full-on vanish, but the wimpy, "if I disappear and stop calling her, maybe she'll get it" type of vanishing act. Really disappointing in how he handled that one. I'm not so fragile that I'd fall apart and I had my reservations as it was. Fortunately for that, I wouldn't let myself get "too close" to him.

At the end of June, my Dad went into the hospital. Turned out, not only did he have a bad heart (which we all knew), but it was now only operating at 25% capacity. Add to that: he's 82. And add to that: he now had an infected gall bladder that needed to come out. So I get this news and I'm pretty shook up about it. And I have to race that weekend. So, not only did I get heat exhaustion racing at Benicia in 100-and-some-change degree temps (I threw up AND got the chills... yummy), I had to mentor the Burlingame Criterium by myself at 7:50 the next morning. And I felt like asssssss. I was sure that I was going to puke and get dropped, or get dropped and puke. Just wasn't sure of the order. I spent the first 15-min of the race in complete silence, as I was dying out there. I finally pulled my head out and started doing my job and ended up staying with the field. Unfortunately, there was a crash with 2 to go and as I swung wide and told everyone to keep going, I was already at the back and I stopped. The second I put my foot down, BLAM! Some chick rear-ended me and the impact blew the chain off, wrapped it around my crank and up in my spokes and down I went. Didn't get hurt, but it made me sooo mad and took a chunk of the paint and clearcoat off my downtube. Unreal. The next week I drove up to WA State with my dog and the bike, so I could spend some time with my Dad... He was up and down and up and down, and finally, after a few days, I saw a glimpse of his former self. Whew. The morning of the 4th of July, I went to go for a bike ride with my brother, and found my parents cat dead on the side of the highway. GAAAH. So I spent the late morning of the 4th, digging the cat off of the road, and burying him in their pasture. Poor kitty. My Dad's doing better now, but his health is still not great. Going home for Christmas this year. Might be the last one...

So I'm glad that summer is waning. It's been a year of change and ups and downs. I'm looking forward to my trip to Hawaii in October. Going for almost a full 2 weeks this time and I'm planning on doing a whole lot of nothing! Reading. Sunning. Driving around. Sleeping. Napping. Visiting the volcano, the SAFE way this time! And watching the Kona Ironman again. Heck, I might even do part of the bike ride this time. I'll have the time for it, certainly!

Beware - there was another sale on crazy pants*...

* Many, many thanks to Megan Guarnier for coining this phrase. I swear that it's the only way to think to keep things in perspective with so many asshats out there "acting out".

Last night, one of my friends and I went for a ride. It was a lovely night. Warm, sunny, a bit windy, but felt really good to be out. As we were riding across Arastradero, we heard a car honk behind us. In the process of moving over, the car pulls up next to us, and proceeds to "lecture" us about taking up too much space. Honestly, I didn't hear a lot of the conversation, as my teammate was actually in between us, but I heard something about "in the middle of the road" and "dangerous" and "holding up all these cars behind me". I yelled, "No, YOU'RE holding up all the cars behind you by being trying to educate us and driving in the middle of the road on a winding road with a crapload of blind corners!" At which point more words were exchanged (my blood was boiling and I heard very little), except the final, "What if I were to put you in the ditch?". WHAT? Are you effing kidding me? We BOTH yelled at him, "GO AHEAD! I'll call 911 right now and you have a TON of witnesses behind you! GO AHEAD!". My teammate said something about "you can buy my next education, and I think I want to go to LAW SCHOOL!". The guy even had the nerve to tell us that he was a cyclist. My ass he was a cyclist. I've never been so angry at a cyclist that I would threaten to "put them in the ditch", even in jest. I guess when you get really old, as this guy was, you feel the need to spread your "many years of wisdom around". Yeah pal, you can kiss my butt.

We got through most of the rest of the ride, but I was still pretty mad. In Redwood City, we had a SECOND encounter. This time it was with a fat, middle-aged woman. We were riding side-by-side on a deserted street when we heard a car. My teammate rode ahead and over into the bike lane, but we had to go around a car parked in the bike lane. Unfortunately, fat-ass decides to pass us at the same time, on a slight hill, with a pretty big blind spot - the down hill (and subsequent stop sign) at the bottom of it, which was pretty close to where we were. As I was cresting the hill I heard the screech of brakes and saw that the woman nearly went through the intersection! I kind of chuckled, thinking that she wasn't paying attention or something, because let's face it: 99% of CA drivers cannot be bothered to drive AND pay attention. But that was only part of it. Naturally, it was OUR FAULT she almost ran the stopsign. Again, I missed the bulk of the exchange because I was further back, but the woman made sure to slow up enough so that I could hear it too (I was honestly trying to stay the hell away from her when I realized she was serious). But I clearly heard: "This is why you guys are always getting killed. Riding in the middle of the road and blah blah blah." I was too stunned to even say anything. We weren't "in the middle of the road".

This is what makes me want to get a camera for my bike. It's been awhile since anything like this has happened to me, but it's so rare to encounter such rude, vile people. I'm still pretty upset about it today. In both cases, it was completely and utterly unnecessary. Sort of makes you wonder WHY someone would be so pissed off and so miserable with themselves that they felt they needed to pick on random strangers to make themselves feel better.

People, don't fall for the crazy pants sale! They're not worth it!!! And if you get the chance to get someone like this out of their car? Yank their crazy pants off!

Low key hill climb - Bear Gulch

Cripes. Why I agreed to do a HILL CLIMB, I'll never know. Several weeks ago, before I went on a blissful (and mai tai'd) vacation, I mentioned a couple of these to my coach. Well, I went on vacation and promptly forgot.

Wednesday evening, I was looking ahead to what I needed to do over the weekend for training (since I did SO much riding in Hawaii - yeah, 3 days on a rented bike with toe clips. I tried to train on vacation, and have you ever tried to sprint with toe clips? I pulled out of them the exact number of sprint attempts: three.). Thursday looked good. Friday good. Saturday: Low key hill climb: Bear Gulch. WHAT? Oh crap. How can I get out of this? It's going to be evil. I distinctly remember (now) thinking it would be a good idea, because it was short (less than 3 miles) and not super steep (6.4% average). But I also remember saying, "I'm not sure if it's a good idea THAT close to returning from vacation.". Clearly, my coach ignored that last sentence. I tried to think of all the excuses, and finally I decided to just go do it. "It's low key! It's not a race! I can do what I want!". But I also decided to park in Woodside and ride up Kings for my warm-up.

Yeah, I said that. Climb Kings for a warm-up. Clearly, I lost my mind on vacation. If someone sees it, please send it home. I sort of need it back...

A co-worker of mine wanted me to join our work team, so I raced (relative term today) with them today. I told her I was slow. I don't think she REALLY believed me.

This morning, I nearly caved and stayed in bed. I was awake before the alarm went off, but then I did a stupid thing: I hit the snooze. Bad, bad! I freaking snoozed for 45 more minutes, which just made me TIRED-ER. I stumbled around the house and made breakfast and got myself together, but not fast enough. I got to Woodside later than I wanted, so my leisurely ride up Kings turned into a faster ride than I was ready for. Drat. It was stinking cold at my car, but the higher I climbed, the warmer it got. I started bemoaning the fact that I wore a vest, arm warmers and long fingered gloves. This would turn out to be a problem later...


(at least I looked okay.... thanks Eric Willis! )

As I was climbing, I noticed that I felt really awful. I'm not much of a climber, but I usually don't feel *that* crappy. Especially since I made the brilliant move to skip power and use my bike with the compact crank (my knees are still thanking me). I was spinning, but my legs were dead. I bet that the deep-tissue massage I got last night didn't help (well, it did, but it didn't), and then the 2 weeks of mai-tai time, and non-riding and "hiking" with my Mom. It's not like I did a ton of high intensity stuff.

Anyway, I made it to the reg area in time, but then we stood around registering, and talking, and trying to get ready to roll out. And then riding down Skyline to the real Bear Gulch, I dropped my chain! Ugh, the curse of the compact crank!!! I had a really hard time putting it back on too (the old up-shift trick did exactly squat). Then another co-worker helped, but now I had grease all over my glove and fingers. And then we descended Bear Gulch. And stood around. When we started, my legs felt exactly like they did when I first started climbing Kings! And I thought, "Why on Earth did I bother with a warm-up?"

The bottom of Bear Gulch is nasty and steep and then barren. The trees give way to completely exposed roads and was it hot! Especially with a vest and full-fingered BLACK gloves on. Oh yeah, those were a stunning idea, if I do say so myself... My computer registered the max temp at: 93. BLEAH! At one point, I was doing about 3 mph, the paper boy, my HR was inching up, I was roasting like a luau pig, and I really thought I was going to barf. I got off my bike and walked... I'm not too proud to admit that, but I really wanted to just lie down and think about life... I was almost moving faster on foot at that point. Forced myself back on the bike and ended up getting back off again later. Jeez. Once I got back into the shade and the pitch mellowed out, I was fine. I rode myself back up to a few that had passed me and I felt pretty comfortable climbing after that point. My HR was high (I wasn't going harder than 80 or 85%), but I've not been doing much climbing or intensity, so I pretty much expected it. I finished much better than I started (if you start at the bottom... nowhere to go but up!) and I can still laugh about walking. It's Low Key for crying out loud! One woman told me, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm usually ahead of those 3 up there." Maybe I'm still on Hawaiian time, but I didn't really care who beat me today. I just know that I didn't chicken out, and I finished...

I think I like this low key stuff, but I'm sure not keen to do one again soon! I do now remember telling my coach that I wanted to do the Low Key up Mt. Hamilton on Thanksgiving. I've never been up Hamilton, so I think it will be good. I likely will not feel the same way the night before or the day of, but I'll be glad I did it when I'm done. Just like today...

I never thought I'd love a badger...

Until today...

Damn! I was watching today's stage LIVE this morning and I almost dropped my cup of coffee! The protester was a total surprise, but I had NO idea Bernard Hinault could still move so fast.

That made my entire week...

Why I hate to ride my bike in Burlingame

Our sponsor shop is in Burlingame (Summit Bikes). Periodically, I'll ride from home over to see them. As it's been hot, I'm trying to ride in the heat to acclimate, so I headed over yesterday around 11:30. While riding along the gutter line on California Avenue (4-lane road) a car came within inches of me with their mirror. I was a bit miffed and raised up my hand like "what the hell?", especially since the other lane was completely devoid of cars. Well, unfortunately for both of us, the car hit the light red at the next intersection. I rolled up, not looking for a confrontation, but wanting to just say, "hey, you got really close to me, please be careful.". Oh, that's so NOT what I got... Me: "Hey, do you know how close you got to me back there?". Psycho woman driver: "It's YOUR fault. You swerved out in front of me!". Me: "Umm, no I didn't. All I'm saying..." PWD: "IT'S YOUR FAULT. YOU SWERVED IN FRONT OF ME! HAVE A NICE DAY! HAVE A NICE DAY!!!" Me, "Look, lady, do you understand..." PWD: "HAVE A NICE DAY! HAVE A NICE DAY!" The more I tried to say, the more she interrupted me. I should have known that on a day close to 100, with all her windows rolled down, that her brain was probably pooched from the heat, and that trying to reason with a psycho is a moot point. Sort of like, jumbo shrimp, military intelligence, etc. I was so shook up that someone could have such little regard for another's safety that I just yelled at her (over her still screaming at me), "Nice, well, it's obvious that you're a psycho. Have a nice day!" and rolled forward.

In hindsight, so many things come to mind. Like, if I really wanted to get hit, I'd not mess around with a car, and I'd go and "swerve" in front of a bus. Or does it not imply the motorist isn't morally obligated to avoid hitting a cyclist, even if the cyclist swerves a bit? For the record, I didn't even twitch. I can ride a line without wavering for a very long time. Then there's always the stuff you think of saying hours after the fact. Like, "It's nice the mental institution lets you out for the weekend, but you really SHOULD go back before someone gets hurt.". That would have been a fun comeback. But likely, the way she was acting, she probably did it on purpose, and then was mortified to hit the light and then, on top of that, be confronted. Well, if you endanger me, and I can catch you, I WILL confront you. I don't regret confronting her, but I regret that it kind of consumed me for the day and that's such a waste.

Not more than 45 minutes later, after stopping at Summit to get COLD water and visit, I headed back towards home. Checking out the course for the Burlingame Crit next Sunday. On my second pass, as I was getting ready to get out of the madness of downtown, some asshat in front of me (I was a safe 4-5 bike lengths away, but we were doing close to 20), decides to SLAM on his brakes to let a pedestrian cross (not in a crosswalk). Holy sh*t. I slammed on the brakes and missed slamming into his bumper by about 1/2 inch. God, I was furious. And you know what? HE NEVER EVEN SAW ME. The pedestrian did, but not the motorist. Wow... I decided that I couldn't get out of there fast enough and there was a huge blockage at the next intersection, so I stopped (full stop) and then proceeded through the 2 cars blocking the entire intersection, only to be nearly pegged by someone turning right. I hit the brakes again, they let me go (I have no idea if that was my fault or not - I was pretty shook up by then). I got out of there as fast as I could, in tears.

I have had more "near death" experiences in Burlingame than I ever have in San Francisco, Los Gatos, Redwood City, South City or Foster City. All places I consider to be more dangerous than Burlingame. But I've been proven wrong again and again.

All I can say is that I felt safer than I have in ages on the bike path yesterday. And my SRAM Red brakes work REALLY well.

Holy sh*t!

I've been trying to break 1000 watts since I started training with power last fall. I got close a few weeks ago with 994 watts, but this is all during training. I haven't felt good enough to actually sprint in a RACE, so it's kind of a moot point. Tonight, I'm out on a pre-race ride with a former teammate (Kim P), just messing about. Did a few efforts and asked her if she wanted to go do a couple of sprints on Runnymeade (my favorite place to do sprints). She was game and so off we went. The first one was a bit shaky, but I still pulled out 909 watts. Okay, good, but I can do better. The next one was way better. I could tell because I felt like I was going to pull my shoes out of the pedals! Kim got a better wattage reading that time too, so when I checked my max, all I could do was scream. I just kept whooping/screaming and almost crying and when she caught up to me all I could blurt out was "Holy shit. I did it. I broke 1000 watts!!!!!!". Kim was hilarious. "This is great! I've never seen you this happy!".


I had to take a picture of it, just in case. And I have no idea how the hell I'm going to sleep tonight, because I'm SO amped up. And to think I did it on Friday the 13th, of all days. Wow. Must be still wound up about the butt gasket business! JK.

Birthday Ride

So I'm slow. My birthday was actually on Monday... I went for a nice ride to celebrate. And of all the odd-ball things for me to do, I decided to climb Old La Honda. First time since last fall. I held myself back so I could take in the scenery and try not to worry about how long it was going to take me to get to the top. And I made sure to do it the first part of the ride, so I wouldn't chicken out. I was surprised to make it in a reasonable time. I remember a few summers ago, training my ass off to get a good time on OLH. Seriously. I turned myself inside out to get to the top, and clocked a slower time by 20 seconds! Good to know that my fitness has improved in the past few years!

Oh yeah. When I stopped for water before heading back to the car, I saw a bunch of Harleys parked at Roberts Market in Woodside. As I was standing there, eating and drinking I noticed this sticker on one of the bikes... I almost fell over laughing. Classic!


Some of the other bikes had the "Support your local Hells Angels" stickers, but this was the only one that I saw that had the added tagline: "OR ELSE". Awesome.

I followed my ride with a trip to the store for some mahvelous cheese and had homemade Bruschetta, yummy cheese and wine for birthday dinner. I figured the cheese might be s l i g h t l y better for me than the planned piece of carrot cake. ;o)

WTF is up with the weather?

How can I possibly acclimate to the heat when it's 50-something on my after-work rides? 2 weekends (Madera and the Wente Crit last Sunday) I've puked in my races. Both times it was well into the 90's.

At Madera, it was in the TT and at least I could back off a bit and recover, while only losing a bit of time.

But shoot, Wente? I'm in a crit. How the hell do I back off without getting dropped? Answer: I followed an attack (after puking, mind you), which of course, blew me to smithereens. But hey, I'd rather go down, guns blazin' , than be a puss and just drop out. Yeah, I puked again after that, but whatever. And with the crashfest that ensued, my dropping out of the race was a blessing in disguise. And from the looks of this pic (thanks Garrett!!! Go check out Garrett's photos at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/garrettlau/), I was already dehydrated well before the race even started. Nice white mustache. That's what I get for having a super-stressful work-week (I have GOT to win the lottery...).

Back to the weather. My thought, after suffering like a dog on Sunday was to start riding mid-day, to acclimate to the heat. Bloody hell. It's been like 30 degrees cooler ALL WEEK. I haven't bothered riding at lunch, because it's only 60-something degrees. I still need knees and arm warmers in that weather. Maybe I should wear a space suit, or plastic bags or something, but with all the wind, it would be deafening! And I might actually get blown off the road...

Sea Otter MTB Race

I had no expectations going into this race. I was pretty fried from Madera last weekend, and after tacking onto the Valley Ride this week and keeping up to my goal intersection. When I did my pre-race ride on Thursday, my legs were seriously protesting. I decided to just "ride" the MTB race this year. Have fun. Not worry about my front brake dragging me down like last year (and making me want to throw my bike down some ravine!).

Sea Otter was the usual madness, but reg was a disaster this year. Took forever because I had to: stand in line to be told to fill out a waiver (even though I pre-reg'd), go stand back in line to get my number and ankle chip, go stand in line to have USA Cycling verify my NORBA license, so I could get a stamp on my voucher (they ridiculously charged all of us $10 for a one-day license), stand in line for my goodie bag (shit, just give me a bottle, I don't need all those damned coupons) and then go stand in line to get my $10 back from the cashier. In a word: LAME.

It was cold and windy and luckily, I brought all kinds of clothes. Ran around to visit some of the vendors and my friends and then back to the car to get ready. Felt like ass during my warm-up, but something happened once we lined up. I got the competitive thing going. As we inched forward, it grew. When we were first in line, I accidentally overshot the start line and everyone was teasing me. Oops. BANG! Off we go. 2 women took off like a shot, and I just steadily rode ahead. As we approached the turn that goes up the first little grunt on the racetrack, we'd pulled the 2 leaders in and were now a tighter group of 6 or so. Then a gap opened and I went around it. We caught some women in the group ahead of us while still on the track, and somehow I got around the leader in our group and was first going into the dirt. Holy crap. As we approached the first sharp turn, there was a woman having trouble in it and she stopped. Now, my room was gone and I'm a bona-fide retard when it comes to sharp hairpins. I biffed and landed on my ass. Ouch. I was embarrassed because I slowed everyone down and quickly moved my carcass. I then was able to make up ground on the climb and was in first again. However, I can't descend well and was asked to move over on the single track descent. Fine by me... Then we hit the conga line. Garrrr. Got around them and onto the next section where my rabbit was in sight. Anyway, I ended up passing again, but was behind some slower folks. Tag, I'm not "it" any more, but I was in 2nd leading into the sandy descent.

I have GOT to learn how to ride that stuff better. I ate it at least 10 times, including the last "dance", where I started to endo, but got my left foot out, left hand out trying to balance self, bike endo's forward, I get right foot out, do a pirouette and end up standing, holding my still downhill-facing bike with my left hand. I have no idea how I did it, but that was at LEAST 10 style points right there. I finally gave up after being passed by several people and just ran it.

I then got discouraged and almost panicky. My breathing was ragged. I was almost panting going uphill. It took about another 15 minutes or so to get myself under control and just start RIDING again. I was riding with a purpose, most definitely, but I needed to focus, just to get my head back into the ride. It worked. I was able to ride another sandy descent, which proved less formidable than the first (thank God), and I rode all the steep little grunts. I was doing great right up to when I dropped my chain and banged my knee on the top tube. Ouch, that hurt! I didn't think to try to shift up, because I was ready to fall over anyway. Got the chain back on, then shifted back down and off we go. I caught a few women on the long uphill grind back to the race track, but I had no idea which group they were in. I did end up walking the last part, because the huge gravel freaked me out! But once onto the track, I threw it into a huge gear and motored through the finish.

We stood huddled around waiting for the results, which were totally screwed up. Apparently, several women missed the one turn, where a yellow sign indicated "10 mile ride go this way" while the red ARROW indicated the race goes left here. Janet LeFleur saw at least 4 women going straight at that junction, which indicates that they cut quite a few miles and time off of their race. The results in several groups showed the screw-up, where women finished (14.7 miles, mind you) in: 32 minutes, 40 minutes, 41 minutes. Yeah, right! Anyway, the officials were scrambling last night trying to get the results straightened out and told us that they wouldn't have them posted OFFICIALLY till the morning (today).

Bummer. I drove home, in a stupor. I was so tired! I didn't know how many passed me on my fumblings on the beach, but I figured it was quite a few, so I guesstimated I'd finished in the top 10. Which is great. I thought there were about 15-20 of us, and it was significantly better, time-wise, for me than last year (I shaved off 25 minutes. Of course, last year I had to stop and try to fix a sticky brake about 30 times, but who's counting?). I was happy with the way I rode and I got a really good training ride in.

Holy shit. Janet just called. She's at Sea Otter this morning. Results are posted. She's in 2nd. I GOT FREAKING THIRD PLACE!!! I can't believe it! I'm totally excited, but also bummed in a way. I'm on the podium (for real this time, not because I was 5th of 5 like last year's circuit race!) at Sea Otter, but there probably won't be a podium ceremony, and no pics. :(

But somehow, that placing justifies all the bumps and bruises that I got yesterday. And it was hard, but it was a total blast!

ZEUS!

My new bike... I've been toying with a name for him for a few days. He arrived on St. Patrick's Day, so I was kind of thinking of an Irish theme. Finn MacCool was suggested. Cool name, kind of long. Then I found Niul, which is old Irish for "champion". Aidan was kind of cool, and I think it means "fire". But after riding this bike, damn. Zeus is totally appropriate. This bike is almost a God... I was told that with the white bar tape, I need to be winning some races. Sign me up!

Lots of things on my mind though. Still sad over the deaths of Matt and Kristy. Went by the site where they were killed yesterday, with two teammates. It was overwhelming. I've been off the bike all week, suffering from a bit of depression, horrible allergies, and lethargy. I've not had a training program since January. I've had a few workouts sprinkled in here and there, but I've basically been winging it. My coach has been "out of touch". I know he's busy, but I'm not getting what I need, and it shows in my racing and my riding. It's correctable, but it needs to be corrected sooner, rather than later.

I was so excited to ride Zeus yesterday, that I rode WAY too hard. When I went out to ride today, I was pretty sore. I then ran into three former teammates and rode too hard with them too. By the time the last two of us were headed back up Woodside Road, my legs had been twinging with cramps for about 20 minutes. Well, that was it. My right hamstring seized up, as did my right inner quad. Argh. Curses!!! They cleared pretty quickly (after drinking a ton), but dang. I know better. I rode hard yesterday and didn't hydrate enough. Then I rode hard AGAIN today and didn't hydrate enough. I should have expected as much.

At least I have a cool bike to ride... and I had a better day today shifting with the new SRAM Red stuff. Next time, I should be golden. And I had a really nice ride with Yvonne, Kim and Norma today. It was good to catch up with them. When I got back to the car, who was parked by me? Another former teammate who had moved to CO a few years ago! Another Kim! I was soooo glad to see her! And yesterday's ride with my current teammates, Erin and Angela was stellar. I learned a lot about Angela, and laughed so much that my sides hurt! What's Spanish for "Kitty Killer"? My spirits are improving, and I have my friends to thank!

Trying to make sense of the senseless

After the horrible weekend of cycling tragedies in the Bay Area, I was having trouble being motivated and staying focused yesterday (turn head to view pic till I figure out how the hell to rotate it - sorry!).

To summarize: Sean Smith (Team Oakland) was hit and left for dead Friday morning while commuting to work in Oakland. Thankfully, he's alive. Then the tragedy with Kristi Gough and Matt Peterson on Sunday morning. Then I heard that three Alto Velo riders were descending Skyline near Alice's when a car turned directly in front of them, and this was Sunday afternoon! Thankfully, after a trip to the ER, the three of them are all alive too. The only bright spot was that the man who ran over MaryAnn Levenson was sentenced last Friday and taken into custody directly in front of her. Thank God for that. I don't think the sentence was stiff enough, but at least something was done, and the Levenson's can finally heave a small sigh of relief and get on with their lives.

After reading and re-reading the stupid bit of "journalism" in the Mercury News regarding Sunday's horrible accident, it seemed to me that they glossed over what the cop DID and without actually saying IT, lay blame on the cyclists. I was seething. What the hell happened to reporting the FACTS? I don't care what your opinion is, as a reporter, it's your JOB to report the facts. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but damn. I sat down and wrote a scathing letter to the editor of the Merc News, cc'ing the ass-clown reporter that originally penned the piece. I chewed them out for exactly the above: slanting the story to make it sound like it was the cyclists' fault, and irresponsible journalism. What's happened to innocent until proven guilty? We've become a society of guilty until proven innocent, which is so back-ass-wards, and I blame the media. I threatened to pull my subscription (which I've held for six years) if they didn't accurately report the story.

Now I'm not saying that my letter has even been READ yet, as I'm sure the cycling community (and hopefully the community at large) railed on them for that piece of garbage they printed in the paper yesterday. But today, they printed (front page again, mind you) a completely re-written piece. They even added two reporters to the story, which I'm assuming helped the original journalist, since it was clear that the person couldn't write their way out of a paper bag.

I left work early yesterday because I just was so profoundly sad. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be home. And I certainly didn't want to be on my bike. So I drove to the ocean. The long way. Of course, from Mountain View, the ocean IS the long way. But I needed to clear my head and get some perspective. As I stood and took in the view and wonderful smells, I hoped that this tragedy would be treated delicately, and an investigation would be swift and impartial. And that justice will be served. I decided to go back to something I used to do working in an AIDS Hospice in Seattle. I'm going to plant some things in honor of Kristi and Matt. I'm going to look for a plant or flowering plant which will return year after year. Something beautiful to look at, and that won't fade away at the end of the fall. I'm also going to plant something that will keep on giving. A tomato plant (or 3). I've been wanting to do this for awhile, and now I have the impetus to make it happen.

Call someone you love, and tell them so. Life is short.

My kharma was pee'd on by someone's dogma

This past weekend were 2 of the Cal-Cup races, Dunnigan Hills (air quotes) Road Race and the Suisun Harbor Criterium. Dunnigan Hills is a sprinter's dream for a road race. 700' of climbing in about 43 miles. And this year would include a flat finish.

My teammate (MaryEllen) and I leave my place at 5 a.m. on Saturday to get to the race. She was asleep, but we were making good time until we got to Vacaville. Traffic jam!!! Construction running late. OMFG. I had to pee, and I would have made it to Yolo, if not for the traffic jam. We lost about 20 minutes. By the time we got past it, I was pretty uncomfortable. Exiting 80 onto 113 North, there were seams in the pavement (or so it FELT like), which were killing my bladder. We missed stopping at the first exit, which had a nice Starbucks, a service station, etc. Argh! The next few exits contained nothing but farmland, and the bushes were looking pretty good. MaryEllen has a talent for spotting McDonald's signs and there it was. Just at the offramp in Woodland. I literally ran into the bathroom, whilst she strolled in behind me. Although I usually put my car keys into a pocket or someplace else, this particular moment, they were in my hand. As I turned to flush the toilet, they fell INTO the toilet. It all happened in slow motion. I was too out of it to take a swipe at them to knock them away, so all that was heard was, "Plink" followed by "f**************************************ck!!!!!". MaryEllen calls out, "I'm NEVER touching your keys again..." I didn't even want to touch them, because what do all bike racers do prior to races, besides pee? Awww, nuts. I grabbed them after standing there, horrified. Flushed the toilet and ran screaming to the sink where I threw them in the sink and proceeded to wash both my hands and the keys with soap and water.

Once we started the race, I was fine, till about 45 minutes in. My left hip has really been bugging me, and it's tight. WAY tighter than it's normally been. Jane Robertson attacks and I went with her. Well, I tried to go with her, but I didn't quite have enough to get there from here. We got caught rather quickly anyway, and I was sitting in, trying to recover. I seemed to be recovering, heart-rate wise, but I can't explain what happened other than I had barely any power. The pack started to ride away from me. And despite my accelerations, I could not stay. I chased for awhile and got within about 10 bike lengths and then they just rode away. MaryEllen was looking like she was going to come back for me, but I waved her on. Considering what was going on, I'd not have been able to keep up much longer anyway. My hip/glute continued to degrade until the pain was shooting into my low back, and down my left leg. I was barely moving on the slight rollers (around 5 mph) and nothing is steep on that course. As I was making the long trek back on the straight, boring, 99West, I decided to eat some of my GU. I pulled the GU flask out and when I went to eat it, it was pooled in the bottom. So I held it upside down for about a minute and then ate some. It went into my mouth, and all down my chin. ARGH. I put it away and wiped it off my chin. Then I looked down. It was all down the front of my shorts and my left leg, clear to my knee. And it was a combination of chocolate and espresso (read: brown). God. I tried to wipe it off, but it wasn't keen to leave my leg, so I left it. A few minutes later, I looked down to find a big blob of it, pooled on the top tube, near the seat post. ACCCK. I scooped it up with my thumb and ate it too. When I finally got to the finish line, MaryEllen was waiting for me (she'd won! And I'm so bummed I missed it, but thank God she didn't need me!). "Dude, what's all over your shorts?"

After arriving back at the registration area, I went into the bathroom to clean up. Wiped it off my shorts and my leg, and then went to clean the bike up. Man, that stuff was all over the place. Top tube. Seat post. Even in my rear brake! Threw the towel away and went to mount the bike. Looked down at my left (white) shoe. Sick. It was ALL over my shoe! Back to the bathroom. Stuck foot in the sink and washed my shoe off. Back to the bike. All is well. In talking to 2 girls from Touchstone and MaryEllen, the one girl points at my chest and said, "You missed some." MaryEllen starts laughing and said, "You're right! They DO catch everything!!!" :o)

The next day, the hip issue is still bugging me, which basically takes me out of any contention at Suisun Harbor, so I ride back to my car, shove a gel ice pack down into my skin suit (do these shorts make my butt look fat?) and proceed to roll around town and around the course, encouraging MaryEllen. I came back to the course to find 2 of the women from our race on the ground! I hadn't realized the Virginia Perkins AND MaryEllen both went down in this crash too, because they were both still in the race. Later, Virginia comes out of the race, and we're standing there talking. MaryEllen comes rolling up, and yells, "Dude, give me your rear wheel!" "What?" "Give me your rear wheel! I have a flat!" So I yank it off my bike, Virginia holds my bike and MaryEllen and I go running back to the pit. Mind you, I still have the ice pack in my skin suit and said running action sends it South, so now it's basically fallen down below my butt and is attached to the back of my leg. We arrive at pit in record time (sprinting in road shoes is not recommended) and they tell her, "Sorry, free laps are over. You have to chase." She takes my wheel and takes off, and I head back to my bike with her dead wheel. When I put it onto my bike, someone points at it and said, "Whoa. Look at that!"



Whoever thought a safety pin would flat a tire? Damn. She ran over it a few times too, so it was bent pretty good and looked like someone just fastened it in the tire.

While it was a less-than-desirable weekend, it was still a lot of fun. I have great (albeit, disgusting) stories from the experience, and I'll be more careful with key placement in the restroom in the future. Thank God I didn't drop the keys in the porta-potty. Cuz ewwwww.

Cyclists, Woodside residents and the Sheriff

Who'd of thunk that a large, fast-moving group of cyclists could create a roadblock for more than a few moments?

The residents of Woodside, of course.

This is my 4th year of racing. For FOUR summers, I've been wanting to go on the Wednesday night Valley Ride. But I've been afraid. Afraid of being dropped. Afraid of the rumors of sketchy riders. Afraid of looking like the dreaded "Fred", well, maybe "Frederique". My coach finally talked me into it. "Just try it" he said. So I decided to just try part of it. "Be sure to get a good warmup in". So I did a couple of 10 minute efforts to get some intensity into my legs. I knew I'd have to blend in from nearly a dead halt and append onto the back of the pack, and that was going to be tough, since I'd planned to join in from a slight downgrade section.

I went about my business warming up, and then waiting. Waiting whilst rolling around. Finally, the group arrived, and yup. Had to join from a dead halt. The entire group passed and then I sprinted to latch onto the back of the pack. And they just sucked me along. I moved up and whoosh, whoosh. It was fun! Over a slight crest and then back down again. Whooshing along. Didn't seem sketchy to me, at least not last night. Over another crest and then damn. I had to use my biggest gear so I wasn't spinning my brains out. I don't think I've used that gear in a very, very, very long time. And then we turned, it were going down a long, section of gradual rollers. On an uphill roller, I eventually blew up and popped off of the group. I worked pretty hard to catch up to a teammate, and then we rolled along to the re-group point. I figured the group could just pull me along, back to where I'd parked, and I'd be good to go. So I waited. Once we pulled back onto the road (Kings Mountain Road) and started heading towards 84 and Roberts Market, there sat the Sheriff. I heard voices saying, "Single file! Everyone ride single file." which I tried to do. But others were passing. Then we spread out again as we approached the stop sign at 84 and Kings. The first group got through the left and the rest of us had to wait for traffic. Finally a nice motorist stopped and motioned us to go through. This is where it gets weird. There wasn't much room between the motorist and the head of the group of cyclists, but somehow, Mr. Man (the sheriff) drove through it. I felt like he'd endangered us, but I already know that as a cyclist, my opinion does not matter. Not in Woodside. He cut us off and then parked sideways, in the middle of 84, just to get out and lecture us and make a huge showing for the motorists. I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, what a jerk". He proceeds to lecture us about taking up the entire lane and riding 5 abreast when there's no bike lane, and how he'd gotten FIVE calls already about us. This is where I have to call bullsh*t.

I know this group, and I know the route. The group is traveling at the speed limit for cars. This is why it's so damned hard to stay on the ride. It's FAST, and if motorists are angry because they can't get around, then that tells me they are speeding. And due to the speed, the entire group is present in Woodside for maybe 25 minutes. Tops. I caught the group out in Portola Valley at 6:25. I was back at my car in Woodside at 7. I got popped at 6:35, in Woodside, and part of the route is going up the backside of Kings Mountain to Huddart Park. So for those 5 or 10 minutes, the group is not in the vicinity of any vehicular traffic. Five calls my arse. The whole lot of us would take things more seriously if the door swung both ways. Where was Mr. Man 45 minutes prior when a dark gray Mitsubishi Eclipse passed me within about 2 inches out on 84. I was over to the right as far as possible and there was no oncoming traffic. The driver was just being an a-hole. Where was Mr. Man last week, when I was again, as far to the right as possible, and one of his beloved Woodside residents blew past me in a HUGE, white pick-up truck, with a BBQ strapped in the back of it, on Kings mountain road, missed me by an inch or so (again, no oncoming traffic) and then turned into his driveway? Where was Mr. Man 4 years ago, when some stupid woman ran me off the Kings Mountain descent and I crashed into the ditch, breaking my helmet and denting the sh*t out of some residents fence (said fence kept me from falling down the ravine). 8 out of 10 times I ride in Woodside, I nearly get pegged by some jerk-off motorist, trying to MAKE A POINT. As cyclists, we don't really bother filing complaints, because we know nothing will be done.

But if you're a Woodside resident and mad because some horde of cyclists makes you sit behind them for about 1 minute or so, watch out. The Sheriff's got your back.

Me thinks I'll start spending my Wednesday evenings at the track, where there are no Sheriffs or rich, angry residents with nothing better to do than bug the cops and prevent them from tracking down the speeders, stop-sign runners, drug dealers, meth labs, pimps, prostitutes and bank robbers plaguing the community at large.

New climbing keyword

Wednesday, I went on a long lunch ride. My coach wanted me to do some AT (Anaerobic Threshold - in layman's terms: HR is high and it hurts!) efforts. 1x10 and 1x20 minutes. I figured I'd do the 1x10 on Jefferson, since it's pretty easy to get my HR up to 170 bpm climbing, but there was some construction. By the time I got going, I got 9 minutes in, before it turned downhill and my HR went back down. Fine.

So I ride out to Woodside, trying to hit the bathroom at Tripp and Kings. Foiled! It was closed. Augh. So I headed over to Old La Honda. Knowing, that worst case, I could use the bathroom at the intersection of Skyline and 84. I really wanted to go BEFORE I climbing OLH, but that's the way it goes.

Felt like crap climbing Jefferson, so was a bit nervous about OLH. It's way longer, way harder, and I'd just done it last Saturday. Got a less than stellar time, but it was raining, sloppy and I was on my heavy, rain bike. Honestly, all I wanted to do was get a better time than Saturday. I was on my climbing machine (Orbea), so I felt confident that I could beat the time. It took awhile to get my HR up there, but once it was at 170, it stayed put. I kept my speed around 7 mph, and kept at it. Around the half-way mark, I checked my time. Damn! I was making some serious time! I decided to just keep at it, and keep going till I hit the top, or blew up. If I blew, I could ride slowly to the top, so no harm, no foul. I'd have gotten my 20 min AT effort in, so that'd be good. I was even doing so well that I'd forgotten to use my climbing "keyword", MAGNIFICENT! Usually that keeps my mind off of the pain, and makes me laugh.

Anyone who climbs this hill knows this spot. The spot where the road narrows, because there's a huge tree growing to the right of the road. Probably the left too, but all I know is the road becomes one lane. It's absolutely breathtaking. Of course, my HR was so high, that I was already breathless, but I digress. As I'm approaching the "trees", I hear a car approaching behind me. Because I'm nice, I sped up and got over to the right as quickly as possible, all the while praying said car would wait till I had more room. Since they did, I waved to them, thanking them. They passed me and gunned the engine. Okay, that was weird, but whatever. After they were a "safe" distance away, the female passenger yells "BITCH!". WTF? Dude, I was THANKING you! I hold up my right hand like, "What's your problem?" and they slam on the brakes. "Cool, I can go tell them how fricking stupid they are, since I was thanking them." Trust me, if I was being a bitch, they'd have known it. As I get closer, they change their mind and speed off. Chickenshits.

I was pretty mad, and I kept thinking, "Dang, what's wrong with them? Stupid morons", but then I decide to just turn that anger into energy. I'm really good at that. I used my anger to keep turning the pedals over and driving uphill. Near the top, I realized that I was going to do really well, so when the road got all bumpy and un-even (the end), I was up out of the saddle, driving to the finish. When I hit the stop sign, I stopped the computer.

I'd just clocked my best time on Old La Honda. EVER. And it was the last day of January. I rode to a time 3.5 minutes FASTER than I'd done only 4 days earlier. Wait till June... I might actually achieve my time goal for OLH this season!!! Only 1.5 more minutes to shave off!

Gosh, if they'd called me the C word, I might have gotten a sub 20-minute climb! Too bad I didn't see them at the top, otherwise I'd have arranged to be in their way again next time I climbed it!

Oh yeah. My new keyword for climbing? BITCH! It was easy to explain "MAGNIFICENT" when someone heard me say it aloud. This one's gonna be a bit harder to explain...

Cheerio!