Wolfpack Road Race - Race Report

Feb 12,2011

Riders: 5 Cat 3/4, 15 or so collegiate B/C racers
Course: 33mi, 7.4 mi loop, mostly flat with some uphill efforts

I learned one big lesson during that race: Know how many laps you have to do….this could have ended very ugly for me.

I was barely on my bike for 2 minutes when the race started. I decided that the first lap would be my warm-up lap. That gave me the chance to see the course and to test some fancy wheels Jared gave me five minutes before the start. After the first lap, I wanted to see what I could do with this race.

We rode the first lap very easy, which gave me the chance to warm up and play around with the wheels. We crossed the finish line concluding the first lap and a girl started sprinting right before a hill. I thought, awesome, I’ll go with her and see where that leads to. One quarter up the hill she slowed down and I passed her saying: come on, let’s work together, and expecting that we could create a breakaway.
I pushed further and didn’t look back for a few seconds. When I looked back I had a gap of maybe 20 yards. I was like, ok, maybe this is a sign for me to speed up and get away. So I did.

Looking back thousand times to see if they would catch me was probably overkill but I was worried that they would get me on the flats. However, after ten minutes of TT mode I looked back at a long straight away and didn’t see anyone behind me.

Finishing my first solo and second lap overall, I started my last lap. Because I was worried that maybe the peloton would speed up for the last lap, I gave basically everything I had. I started cramping.

Also, I realized I drifted off mentally so I tried to think of advice people gave me for timetrialing. Since I didn’t have a powertap, heart rate monitor, and even my speedometer didn’t work because I switched wheels without exchanging the magnet, I had no numbers to look at. Sooo boring! I tried to use trees to keep me somehow entertained but that lasted for about two minutes. Then I tried to chase the police car in front of me but that was discouraging so I was happy to see some riders from my race ahead of me.

I turned the last corner to the finish line and started sprinting, mentally celebrating my victory. But then, when I crossed the finish line, a spectator yelled: Monika, you got it you got it, just push more….okay... this is weird I thought…why is he telling me to push? I just crossed the line!...oh and why is the bell ringing? And why the heck is the police car still in front of me?

As those cues weren’t enough, I asked a spectator how many laps I am suppose to do but by that time I got the drift and just kept going. The police car didn’t stop, so that was the ultimate sign that I miscalculated my mileage of the race and I had to go another 7.4 miles….
I had so many 3s in my head that I thought it was 3 laps.

That was a huge mental switch from “Wunderbar!” to “Crap, tank is empty.” But, the fear of telling a story that I got caught by the peloton kept me moving.

Moreover, the field seemed to be all over the place because I kept passing racers.

So again, I got the final corner, raced a guy from a different field to the finish line and was done after about 20mi riding solo.

During the entire race, no one told me how much time I was ahead of the peloton.

After a little cool down and asking the ref if I was really done, I headed back to the car. On my way back, the peloton came around the corner getting ready for the sprint finish. I was so glad I didn’t have to sprint!

Looking forward to the Greenville Spring Training Series!

Ride Report: Haymarket Winter Bike League 2011

What a training series – the Haymarket Winter Bike League!!!

A lot of action was going on… at least for me – rain, 20 degrees, getting lost, chain drop, chain suck, flatted, bike bonking three times, Monika once….

Since I just found my passion for road cycling in July (I did some random road races before that but focused on Adventure Racing), I wasn’t mentally and physically exhausted yet after the season. After only three months of road racing, I was at a loss when Turkey Day was supposed to be the last race for a long time! I hate winter. What was I supposed to do during that time? After Charm city and Iron Cross, ‘cross was definitely NOT an option!

After some forever-lasting three months, January finally came around and the Haymarket Winter Bike League saved me from switching to another sport! I was so desperate to ride again that I didn’t care if it was raining (as in the first race), 20 degrees and freezing (second race), brutal (third race), or flatting 20 miles into the ride (last ride).

Summary of last HWBL:

I was so ready to ride the last HWBL. It was supposed to be sunny, in the 40s, nothing like the last three times. So when I talked to Erin the Friday before, I joked that something has to happen during the ride because the conditions for the ride just seem too perfect. Why not getting a flat…. Yep, I jinxed myself!

So Sunday came along and the weather brought quite a number of people out there! As usual, the first 20mi or so were easy-going. Just before we went onto Snickersville, my bike started bouncing and soon enough, I realized I had a flat!

Great, this has to happen right then when the “race” starts, what timing. So the SAG wagon and four guys stopped for me to change the flat. I declined the offer to jump into the SAG wagon because Snickersville is supposed to be the fun part of the ride. (I refrain from defining fun)

Having changed the flat, I rode a little bit with the four riders but then decided I might catch the big group at the rest stop at Bluemont and attempted a 10mi TT effort. I knew that no one would wait there for 10 min but just the idea kept me going. Of course, no one was at Bluemont anymore when I got there, so I told myself, I have to practice timetrialing anyway, why not doing it for another 40 miles.

But soon enough, on the way up Mt Weather, I found my carrot in the distance that made me speed up. Finally having caught up with him, Robert and I ended up riding together the rest of the ride.
Down Mt Weather and getting ready for the next climb, we surprisingly caught some people and became a group of six or so and we basically stuck together until the end.

We had some navigation issues in Marshall and for a second I felt like in an adventure race again. (I do miss it) We couldn't really follow the cue sheet anymore since we didn’t find a certain road. It didn’t matter because we certainly would hit the 80mi mark anyway. Burgers were only eight miles away!

Although I was disappointed that I got a flat in the beginning of the ride, the people, the weather, and the anticipation for the spring cheered me up!

The Winter Bike League was a perfect opportunity to get to know riders from other teams (not that I would know all 310 NCVC guys). Thank you, Jared, for putting this on!

I am psyched to race again. Maybe NC this weekend?

Iron Cross 2010 - Race Report

Warning: Don’t read this race report if you never intend to race Iron Cross….chances are high the little devil in you wakes up that forces you to go thru this brutality.

Disclaimer: Don’t quote me on any numbers and events…. I was delirious half of the race.

Ok…like for every race report that isn’t written by the winner, here are my excuses:

1. Day before riding at Lake Placid at 37 degrees and a “hill” that a Virginian would comfortably call mountain crossing plus 8 hours drive including a heart-to-heart with the car which lost its exhaustion protector.

2. I felt sick….yeah yeah bla bla bla

3. My brakes were unadjustable (spell corrector went off …I truly believe this word exists)….I guess better excuse is that I have no clue how to get my brakes to actually brake so I went into the race with…let’s call it sub-decent stopping force.

4. It was my second Cross race…

5. I am riding everything like a sissy that is not paved and straight….thus; 90% of the course

Enough with the excuses, I just hope one of them is convincing enough.

About the course: Ironcross is a 60mi race involving some serious singletrack, ‘screaming’ gravel and paved downhill, never ending climbs, two ‘run-ups’ of which one I am surprised no harness was required. The course was divided by four checkpoints that had fluids, food etc at mile 12, 30, 42, and 51.

About 240 racers took on the challenge of which 26 or so were women. In regards to the water carrier choice I decided after arduous discussions to go with bottles rather than with a camelbak.

Race started about 9am with a true cross’ course. After that the fun began with some climbs…nothing serious though. I got to know some racers whom I would see throughout the entire course. The first 12 miles to CP1 were fast, I felt good enough. My strategy was to timetrial any paved sections because I would lose that time on any descents or singletrack. And that was certainly the case because whoever I passed on the hills, I would choke on the dust cloud when he flew by me on the gravel downhill.

As the first 12 miles was about finding the right pace and people, the second part was about staying there. The trouble began when suddenly the volunteers guided the racers 90 degrees away from the gravel road….I feared it and knew what was about to come: singletrack… after 200 feet fighting with rocks and roots, I decided running would be my faster option. Soon enough I realized how much time I lost when all the people I just passed on the uphill came by and yelled at me why the heck I am off the bike. Agreed…however…they don’t know my untalented performance on singletrack….there is a reason why I got out of mountainbiking.

Nevertheless…after some cursing and more cursing I found myself on a PAVED road and timetrialed the entire way and got back to the group I was in before. Silently celebrating my comeback, I wasn’t aware of the next challenge….climbing up the ridge. Not sure how the race director calls it run-up (he admitted that the term is defined loosely and he might be right with that because you only could lose). It was a game of balance and deep trust into the people above you who could lose the grip of their bike anytime….this became suddenly a team sport.

Happy being on the top of Mount Everest or whatever this mountain was my enjoyment froze when I saw in the distance a caravan of bike-carrying nomads. However, I also saw a blue tent screaming water (which I was out of) and food. Up the ridge I was told I was ninth in the women category. At the tent, I felt like I got a personal volunteer who gave me water, heed and whatever I wanted (Thank you so much for that!!!!) and then kicked me out of the feed zone. I saw my self-claimed group at the feed zone and we exchanged some encouraging words (like…seriously, another 30 miles?) and I was off for the second half of the race leaving them behind because I knew soon enough a descent must come and I will see them right there.

Tumbling on the ridge and finding the right cadence was high priority. I caught more riders who looked at me pitifully during the singletrack in the previous section. However, as much as I enjoyed passing them I anticipated the descent…on gravel of course. Everyone passed me again…swirled-up dust in my face completed my thought process why I am doing this…I was supposed to relax from all the riding the past days.

After refreshing my memory of all possible German curse words, I finally hit the pavement at the bottom and timetrialed the way to CP3. Again, the volunteers were great giving water, and heed. My group assembled at CP3 again….it was pretty awesome seeing familiar faces the entire race.

The next challenge was climbing, climbing and climbing. The course description explains this climb as “you think you’re at the top. You’re not.” It’s pretty accurate. However, I like climbing and that was my only chance to get a head start for the next singletrack. I don’t know how long we climbed but it was tough…there were times I thought my cadence is so low that I would fall sideways. Then I would try to shift down realizing that I tried that ten times already and I, in fact, was in the lowest gear.

Finally up that climb, I had to face another descent…same story as the last but this time I got cramps in my hands and had to stop at one of the downhill gravel switch-backs. One rider stopped next to me and asked if everything is ok….excuse #3 came in handy. At this point, I unanimously decided that this will be my last CX race or any race that involves some sort of technical riding (I define ‘technical’ very loosely). And this time, I trained my vocab for all possible English curse words…gotta mix it up.

Down at CP4, I chose to grab a banana…before only Heed and Perpetuum was my energy source of choice. I looked at the clock and I was about 4: 30 hours into the course. A lot of people discussed before the race that they wanted to crack the five hour mark. After some calculations, which were obviously way off reality, I thought I could finish under five hours as well. If I would have read the instructions better, I would have known that I could prove my weaknesses to myself again when another singletrack slowed me down.

Since I was pretty much by myself I took it easy….apparently too easy because two women flew by….53 miles into the race!!! I was mad at myself. All the sudden arising energy I used to walk up the last climb….the two women ahead of me. Up the ridge, I immediately jumped onto my bike passed both of them and just hoped for more favorable conditions…meaning PAVEMENT! I passed a tent with a guy sitting in it smiling at me in a suspicious way. Later I learned they handed out beer. I had other issues to deal with and finally luck was on my side and I hit pavement.

I knew from the instructions that that was it….pavement to the finish. So I cursed a little bit at my chain ring that didn’t want to shift to the biggest ring but once that was in place, I turned every little anger, exhaustion, and tiredness into speed. I didn’t want to get passed. The last 55 miles I had no serious goal….at some point a goal had to come and if it is only for the last 5 miles. I looked behind me and didn’t see anyone. But from experience I knew that didn’t mean anything so I pushed harder. Finish came closer and closer and finally the turn to the finish was ahead. I turned. One more look back…no one. Two more hurdles to jump…wait…to climb is the more accurate term…and then a guy held out a medal to me. DONE in 5:35h (or so)!!!! 122nd (or so) overall and 8th (or so) in the women’s category.

This was truly a great race…I know I decided not to race it anymore but I have another year to revise that decision. Maybe until then I forget how much I suck in downhill, singletrack, gravel, roots, and rocks.