Spokane Round and Round, Part II

The Spokane 24 hour mountain bike started with a "Le Mans" style start, which you'll most definitely want to experience via the link below.  I was skeptical about this element of the race.  We're going to be racing for 24 hours- is it really necessary to tack on an additional 800 meter lap for one unlucky soul?  Isn't this just a footnote on the weekend's guaranteed agony?  Lucky for us, Dave actually does some running on purpose, and even enjoys it, so he agreed to be our start man. 

With a gun blast, the race commenced.  I must admit, I did get quite a kick out of watching a gaggle of lycra and helmet-clad athletes trotting awkwardly across the start line in cycling shoes.  

More dirty fun- Soaring Eagle and Steilacoom

The West Side MTB races have been keeping me active all winter.  Races 2 and 3 were great muddy fun, and added great variety to the twisty turny thrillfest of Dash Point.

Race two went down at Soaring Eagle.  Jill and I were joined by one of my favorite bike buddies, Mr. Justin Calvo.

Amara Boursaw's great shots!

My First Win

This past Sunday I raced in my first second mountain bike race ever (the first one in high school).  My alarm went off at 5:45 am.  I hit the snooze button, still sore and sleepy from a hiking adventure the previous day, and fell back into a dream in which my mother (who lives in Spokane) was asking to use our bathroom.  The conscious part of my mind broke into our dialogue, tapped on my forehead, and whispered in my ear that perhaps I'd been snoozing too long.  I rolled over to check the clock, and it was 6:25.  Shit! Jill was scheduled to pick me up at 6:30 and that woman is never late.  I bolted out of bed in a panic, dove headfirst into my racing kit, ran downstairs and grabbed my bag, which luckily I had packed the night before.  Jill pulled into the driveway just as I was pulling my bike out of the basement.  I collapsed into the passenger seat and settled in to enjoy the comfort of the heated seats in the Subaru for the drive down to Dash Point State Park.
As we traveled south, I medicated with caffeine, to wake up, and Advil, to help my sore hips and legs loosen up. Warm up started off rather stiff and slow, but after about 20 minutes and I started to feel good- loose, relaxed, comfortable.  The course really suited my riding style- lots of ups and downs, plenty of turns and roots, on the technical side, but still nice and flowy. Excellent!

We headed back to the start line about 15 minutes before our start. That's when the nerves and self doubt started to settle in. I had no idea how this was going to go.  My heart sank a little bit when some Team Group Health ladies lined up.  These are ladies I really enjoy racing with, but they generally beat me in road and CX and I was intimidated by their arrival. I actively tried to push those thoughts out of my head and focused on the start. With a "ready, go!" we were off.  I stomped in to my pedals and took off down the incline, grabbing the hole shot.  I  expected someone to come flying around me at any minute, but no one did.  I flew over the first knoll and nearly over my handlebars as the trail dove to the right.  Somehow I recovered and sat back in the saddle, reminding myself to calm down and ride within my means.

A train of TGH and Cycle U ladies coming down the first descent (I snagged this shot from the TGH flickr stream).  

A Suffering Unicorn

Saturday's CX race was on Halloween weekend, so of course I had to dress up.  I have always wanted to experience what it is to be a magical unicorn.  

Photo from the Seattle Times. 

While it was great fun to get all dressed up, and I definitely felt magical in some ways, my unicorn powers certainly did not propel me to the front of the pack.  The course wasn't my type of course- fast, flat, smooth, nothing technical except those stairs. I was instantly dropped by the roadies, suffering at the back of the race with only a butterfly to keep me company.

Photo by Bikehugger.

About two laps into the race, my left unicorn leg got caught in my rear deraileur, so I stopped and spent a good minute or two getting it untangled and ditching the leggings (thanks to my friend Dan who graciously caught them as lobbed them in his general direction).  The butterfly fluttering way ahead, I spent the rest of the course suffering alone, wishing I had the power in my legs a real unicorn surely would.  Although I wished for more magical results, there was some comfort in seeing Unicorn make the Seattle Times as well as Bikehugger's Sufferfaces.  

Grit and Gloom- Olympic View from the back

It was 42 degrees and raining.  I was soaking wet and covered in road grime, my feet were blocks of ice, and the sunblock I'd put on my face that morning had been streaming into my eyes for the better part of two hours, adding a nice sting to my already itchy eyes, inflamed from some serious seasonal allergies which had kept me up most of the night. I was running on roughly three hours of sleep, a bowl of oatmeal, a peanut butter clif bar, and enough ibuprofin to keep the menstrual cramps at bay.  As I grunted and struggled to turn my pedals over a few more times to get to the top of the hill, the other two ladies I was chasing - Susanne from Blue Rooster and Jackie from Bikesale, both 15 years senior to me- looked over their shoulders at me from the top of the hill. 

"Meghan, let's make a pact right now.  We will wait for you, but you can't come around us at the finish and sprint to beat us, ok?  We don't want to see any front-of-the-pack tactics..."