Colorado Trail riding…

I was having dinner with a group of friends about a month ago when one of the girls casually brought up that she wanted to do a mountain bike race this year. I pounced on her having found out about a week earlier that my teammate for the Firecracker 50 last year wouldn’t be able to race this year and was still slightly bummed at having to find a new teammate. “The Firecracker 50 is a great race, it’s so much fun! You’ll only have to do 25 miles and I’ll do the other 25, c’mon you’ve run 30 miles- you’ll be fine!” Fortunately her boyfriend got on board with this plan and he found a teammate too.

Squad Goals

I was a little unsure the morning of Firecracker how my legs were going to react for the day. Two days before I had spend 3 hours on the Colorado Trail (completely worth it!) after an hour of intervals up at Leadville and the day before did a 2 hour ride with some friends, while I wasn’t exactly pushing the pace I wasn’t exactly sitting around in compression socks either. I had to keep reminding myself that it was training and everything counts towards Leadville whether or not my legs are on.

The race started with Allison going first, I rode the parade with her and Dave (whose partner was also going first). I think what really sold her on the race was getting

Ready to Race!

 to be in the parade and I hoped that her enthusiasm would keep throughout the race. After leading her out, Dave and I took off for the park where the exchange zone and finish area was. There Sully (because he’s the best) washed my bike, because a clean bike is a happy bike and we waited.

The next few hours were a bit agonizing, last year Sully had been on course so I had an idea of when I would see my teammate, this year was a little harder to guesstimate. I kept drinking and eating just to be ready–I even got dress after the pros got done with their first lap because chamois time is training time. I still get nervous for shorter races, probably more so than longer ones because they still seem so foreign to me so sitting around waiting was not helping the butterflies in my stomach. I was sitting watching people come down the front side of the mountain, looking for a blue camelbak when I heard “Ginsbach/Jasinski team is through!” “Oh Crap! That’s me!!” I now know how how Superman felt every time he had to do a quick change in the phone booth- I stripped off my sweat shirt, jumped up from my chair and followed Sully (who had grabbed my bike) at a jog to the transition area. I checked in with Allison to see how it was and how she felt, she said she had fun, number plate was switched and I was on my way.

The first 7 miles is a steady grade up  Boreas pass, I was familiar with it from last year and having

Easing into this camping thing

spent a night camping up where the road feeds into the trail. I kept thinking it was going to turn really steep but it maintained a nice steady railroad grade. I kept trying to average between 9-11 mph while riding conservatively enough to make it to the first aid station and top off my fuel levels. I was also worried my legs were going to go out in the first few miles but figured I would keep pushing until they did.
This section is why I will never do the 50, or at least have reservations before signing up. Beginning the second lap fresh every person I seem to pass was a hollow shell who seemed so defeated by having to being the process again. Most were beyond gone a “good job” or “nice work” and I wished I had more that I could have offered to get them up the hill.

I reached the first aid station grabbed a bottle and some chews because it had been a while since I had eaten anything and started on the trail. This course is so much fun, and with the rain that week had brought the dirt was especially good. I began descending and would slowly pick people off always trying to make sure not to encroach on them and let me know that whenever a good spot was available I would go around. I kept riding and soon found myself at the bottom of Little French, which is synonymous with this race. It’s a loose, two-track, baby head rock climb that I only ever remember being about 50 yards but as I approached it this year I realized it actually begins much farther down. I kept turning the pedals over, reminding myself how much I hate hike-a-biking and those unfortunate souls around me motivated me to keep riding. I got my rear wheel on a rear rock and spun out which made me immediately hop off, take 2 steps and hop back on to keep going. The last 50 yards (the part I remember from last year) I spun my rear wheel out on another rock and hopped off, realizing it was a little too steep and a little too loose to get a good start I power walked the rest of the way thinking this is also great training for Leadville.

The next section is super fast and super smooth, and I soon found myself at the second aid station and pushing towards the last one. There is so much good single track in this race that I was soaking it all up, and was into the last aid station before I knew it. Right after the aid station I went to pass a guy, there was plenty of room and right before making my move he stood up and took off. At first I thought maybe he had heard me coming and wanted to stay in front of me and then I realized this guy is a really good climber. I stuck on his wheel, and we moved up through more people. I began to

Didn’t take the “A” line on Race day

recognize areas that we had rode the day before and when we were at a log I knew we were close. I stayed on the guy’s wheel and let him pull me up into the bike park. This is the best part of the course, it’s almost 2 miles of just full on descent with jumps, log features, and berms, so much fun! I followed the guy through one of the switch backs and the top when he asked if I wanted to go around, I hesitated, this guy had just pulled me around for 4 miles and he was going to let me go first on this descent?!? But then I took him up on his offer, telling him that if he needed to get by to let me know. I rallied down that descent, trying to stay focus enough on what I was doing and not get too far ahead of myself. I came into the finish and the guy who let me go in front wasn’t far behind, I thanked him for pulling me the last 4 miles and letting me go first.

Charging

Crushed it.

Doing the team event might be one of my favorite races of the year. It seems that the race director does everything in his power to make sure that everyone has a great time out there- fully stocked aid stations (they give you bottle hand ups so you don’t even need to stop), sends out emails before with all the details and even instructing people on how to pass and get passed. And the course is incredible (almost worth signing up for the full to do it twice!) every time you get close to being mental broken down over a climb you are rewarded with a tasty, well-earned descent.

Here are the numbers:
Distance: 25.1 miles
Time: 2:35:41
Speed: 9.66mph
Average power: 152
Average HR: 157
2 Bottles (1 Skratch)
1 bag of HoneyStinger Chews

This weekend I’m doing an 83 mile mountain bike race in the Black Hills. I wasn’t too concerned until I started looking at the finishing times from last year, women were from 9-16 hours and the fastest men were around 8 hours. Could end up being a much longer day in the saddle (with more snake sightings) than I was thinking…

The 15 hours leading up to the Queen of the Hills race at the Black Hills Fat Tire Festival did not give me high hopes for the race itself. Packet pickup was advertised as going till 5 and after arriving at 4:30 we learned that they left at 4. We went to the next location where we were told they didn’t have our packets there and it wouldn’t matter anyways because they didn’t have our race numbers so everyone would have to get them in the morning before the race. There really wasn’t a lot of information about the race on the website either, it’s a race that combines a hill climb, cross country race, and downhill time segments for the overall. I asked if there were separate  waves or different start times, no mass start. How the timing worked for the three separate categories- there will be people there so you’ll know which portions are timed. Are there any feed zones? There will be people with coolers that will have water. We were also told that the course was marked so Sully and I left to go try to preside. The course was marked but not in any fashion that really made sense of where to go and our only race course map was a strava file which left much to be desired. We rode around for 1:30 and only went 6 miles because at every trail junction we would stop and try to negotiate if the course went this way or that way. Let’s just say I was not impressed, and left feeling anxious about what was going to transpire the next day.  

Getting my HR down after the climb. Photo: Randy Ericksen

The morning of the race, having to get our numbers we arrived earlier than usual only to learn that it was going to start an hour later at 8 instead of 7 because of thunderstorms. We put our numbers on then went to get more coffee, or at least me more coffee. We came back after the rain had stopped and warmed up. They then started the call ups. They didn’t do separate waves but did divide us by age group, and there were so few in my age group that I ended up in the front row with all the boys. I still get really nervous racing with guys because I never know how it’s going to go. The race started on a bike path for about a mile or so before the hill climb begins, this helped tremendously to spread everyone out a little bit and have them fit into their proper position. Doing the hill climb even with a warm up doesn’t change the fact that my legs were immediately filled with lactic acid and it felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. 

Going down! Photo: Randy Ericksen

I followed the wheel in front of me and towards the top I had to hop off to scramble up some rock features, I apologized to the guy behind me who told me I was doing fine and to keep doing me. I made it up the climb and saw the people that indicated the time section was over. Keep pushing but continue recovering. I was focused on riding when a minute or two later I heard a familiar voice, “Kate, there is a snake, get off the trail!” I have been told that enough times to follow the voice up to Sully who was standing off the trail with a stick in his hand (I wish there was a photo). He was calling out to the other riders warning them too. I immediately hopped off my bike and ran towards Sully when I noticed a snake in the middle of the trail, coiled up, hissing, and moving around. I then remembered that snakes can jump (or so I’m told) and I moved a little faster. Sully got in front of me and we avoided it completely- about 15 seconds later we heard a shriek and later found out that a lady had run over it. That snake was pissed, and I’ve never stuck around long enough to see a snake get that reactive. I continued on Sully’s wheel for a bit thanking him for stopping otherwise my race might have been over if I was the one to run over it- he was soon gone as we got on a descent and he took off. 

After the descent I got passed by a lady, and tried to stay on her wheel for a bit after she told me to hold on but I couldn’t keep pace with her for too long and watched as she slowly pulled ahead. The course flows really well with a few short climbs and two big ones. The course wasn’t terribly crowded either and on the back side of the course the distance began to grow between each rider. I was riding along looking to the switch backs above me to anticipate what was coming when I looked down and saw it slithering underneath me. I screamed having run over a snake and got chills running down my spine. Two minutes later I saw a course volunteer, “I ran over a snake back there!” “Was it a rattlesnake?” He inquired. “I don’t know but it could still kill me!” I didn’t know if it was a rattlesnake, but there are signs posted about them being over the hillside, and after the first encounter was not sticking around to find out. 

Photo: Randy Ericksen

The one unfortunate part of our preride mishap is that we went down this section that we were convinced was the timed downhill, it had a few drops, rock waterfalls and was really fun to go down. During the race I found out that we actually got to go up it. I made it up one of the features before having to get up and run the rest of the way up. The climb does feed into the timed downhill portion but it has more berms and less rock features. I started down and was passed by two guys but both were really nice saying they’d see me on the climb again. I got done and started lap two by asking if the snake at the top was taken care of. They didn’t know but figured I would check again at the top of the climb. I started up and again had to get off at the portion that I ran up on the first lap. This time I stopped and gave a guy one of my extra CO2s since he had a flat. All I asked in return was that if he got in front of me he’d warn me of any snakes. I also asked that of any guy who passed me at that point and throughout the rest of the race. I check with the volunteers at the top about the snake and they thought it was gone. I was still reluctant coming around the corner and the section where Sully called me off for the snake. I then realized the faster I went the less time I would have if I did see. It was gone and I continued on my way. The first lap they cut out about 2 miles due to the rain and then decided to put it back in on the second lap, which made for some very challenging mental math trying to figure out how much I had left and how much of my bottle I could drink. It didn’t seem to add much elevation which I was grateful for at that time and I got to the rocky climb sooner than I thought (miscalculation  

Sully working hard. Photo: Randy Ericksen

on the mental math). I was nearly out of my one bottle and just really wanted water. I got to the top of the climb and there was a group of volunteers there, I asked if they had any water and they told me further up the climb before the descent. I went to get back on my bike and completely missed landing on the rear wheel, yeah still not sure how I managed that- they all kind of stared at me and I said, “actually do have tequila” and then I got back on my bike and climbed up. I reached the top of the climb and saw the two people who were suppose to have water. I was only 2-3 miles from the finish and it was mostly descent but the sun had been exposed long enough and I had been out of my bottle long enough that all I could think about was stopping. I wasn’t sure what the situation was so when I asked they took a bit to dig a Dasani bottle out of the cooler. I stopped for a few chugs and then handed it back and continued down into the finish. I got down to the finish and found Sully who had finished 3 minutes before me. I had saw him on one of the switchback climbs and tried to catch him but couldn’t do it. 

I finished 2nd overall for women and first in my age group. I was 1st in the hill climb for women, 2nd in the cross country, and 3rd for the downhill section. When I was talking to Sully beforehand I actually thought it would be reversed, with the hill climb being my worst section. I think if it hadn’t been delayed an hour the weather would have been perfect and one bottle would have been enough. I also thought the water station would be a little bit better since the race was 24 miles, but next year I’ll just bring someone to feed me. The race was actually a lot better than I was anticipating and it seems like it has huge potential to grow and really be a destination race. I’m grateful to have options to race close to home. It seems that all the people who race in SD are really nice–I always stress so much about it–so I’m always very thankful for that (I haven’t done a race yet in the state with anyone mean).

All that for a pair of socks…

 
We spent the next day going over some of the trails on the Wildcat Classic course (a race in August that everyone should come to!) that is outside of my hometown. Mainly we just climbed up to go down the amazing descent at the end–but definitely worth it. 

Trails outside of town I can ride to makes me VERY happy!

Last time I said that forgetting your legs was the worst thing to do when it comes to a race, actually I take that back–forgetting to register for the race might take the cake. Fortunately when I emailed the race director for the Gold Rush Gravel Grinder her response was, no problem-we could always use more females.

The start- before I really knew what was before me. Photo: Les Hesierman

I didn’t think having to pedal for 110 miles was going to be that bad until I learned of the 100 degree heat for that day but even then I could not imagine what I was in store for. At 6:00 race morning it was already hot out and my stomach did not like it, I was able to get about 1/4 of what I normally eat for breakfast down before the race started which I knew wasn’t the best plan but it was better than nothing. The neutral roll out started and I cruised along thinking they would regroup us before sending us out on the gravel, they didn’t so by the time we officially started racing we were already strung out-I had to quickly assess and get on someone’s wheel. Having done one gravel race before I knew that I should hang on to someone’s wheel as much as possible. And that’s what I did for the first 40 miles. It helped that we were in a canyon by a creek so the heat wasn’t terrible at this point. I spent the first two hours only taking in liquids, which I knew could potentially set me up for failure later but my stomach was not having any of it. I made it to the first aid station at mile 33 and refilled my bottles, thinking I had kept pretty good pace. I got food out to eat on the next section because I knew I needed to force something down or I would be done.  The next aid station was at mile 68, which made me a little nervous but I knew if I conserved my water, I could make it if I kept on pace.

Getting pulled around is my go-to move. Photo: Les Heiserman

I didn’t keep on pace though and from mile 40 to 68 is a long, steady, gradual climb up. It was never steep enough that it warranted getting out of the saddle but steady enough that I was just continuously mashing my pedals and remaining in a static position. At around mile 43 I was starting to get worried about my water situation, there is no way I would be able to make it to mile 68 with what I had. But there was no other option either, I was closer to 68 than I was the beginning so only option was to keep going–and there wasn’t a lot of cell phone service out there to call anyone.

I was saved by the grace of God– and this is really the only way I was able to keep going. The race director was around mile 50 and had a barrel of water. It seemed like he was picking someone up on the course (I’m not sure the reason he was out there- maybe he took pity on our poor souls who were slogging away) but I reloaded my bottles there and it saved me. One of the guys I was riding with said he was calling it. We were at a split and he said if you go left it loops you back to town on the 70 mile course and if you go right you’ll stay on course. I asked if they would take our times over for the 70 mile- he didn’t think so. I decided to keep going but immediately questioned my decision as I rode off.   

The next 18 miles didn’t go by any faster. It was miserable, somewhere in that time span I questioned everything, riding bikes, racing bikes, doing Leadville- they all seemed like awful ideas and yet the only thing I could do was to keep riding my bike. I simultaneously hated my bike and desperately needed it. I was in a low for about 35 minutes, and began eating by the clock and trying to work out of it. I began taking breaks; every 20 minutes or so I would find some shade, get off my bike and just stand there letting the breeze cool me off, eat something, stretch and then get back on to continue. One guy made the comment that we were no longer racing, we were just surviving. It changed my perspective a bit. I started saying I can survive this, I will outlast-as long as I don’t get heat exhaustion. 



Last climb- but still 25 miles to go. Photo: Les Heiserman

I made it to the last check-in point around mile 86, got some water and then turned around. The next 25 miles or so are mostly downhill, not steep enough that you can coast but at least it wasn’t uphill. I watched the miles tick by (not fast enough) and couldn’t wait to finally get off my bike. With 10 miles to go one of the guy who was walking up the hill earlier blew by me like I was standing still, sure I was still cruising at 22/23mph but there was nothing left. I started singing, “Everything hurts sometimes” my own rendition. I’ve never had so many simultaneous aches at the end of a race, down to my bones hurt and I think if someone had offered me a ride at that point I would have taken it, that’s how far gone I was. Fortunately nobody did so I kept riding down Spearfish Canyon. I was so happy when I was done, I got off my bike and laid under a tree for a good 30 minutes–which rendered some very weird stares but my response was, “just say no to gravel”. 

Sharing our tales of misery

I spent a good portion of the race thinking I was never going to do a gravel race again. I later found out that I won my age group and the women’s overall walking away with $200—I realized shortly there after that I’ll probably do gravel again. For our podium picture, they said 3rd place was still out on course…

Having second thoughts about my retirement

I’m grateful to the race directors, as I saw both of them on course making sure that people had enough water and seeing if riders needed anything. And also to my best friend Heidi, who let me stay at her house and take over her kitchen to make all the food I thought I was going to eat during the ride. 

Here is the break down: 
Miles: 110.8
Time: 9:06:07 (Time I was actually riding: 8:37- I said I took a lot of breaks in the shade…)
Avg. Speed: 12.1
Elevation: 6,401
Avg. Heart Rate: 155
5(!!!) Snake sightings

Nutrition:
10 Bottles of Water
5 Servings of Skratch
4 Rice cakes with blueberries and chocolate (I was carrying 6 total along with 5 sweet potato cakes, 2 gushers and 1 sharing size Peanut M&Ms bag but never consumed them..oops). 

Have you ever went to play baseball but only to forget your glove? That’s what showing up to a race and forgetting your legs feels like. You can still race, but it’s not very pretty. That’s how I felt at Ironhorse. I finished, it wasn’t pretty and I never want my legs to decide not to show up again.

Not race course but definitely worth riding!

The morning of the Ironhorse we woke up and went and did a lap on course, okay I did half a lap because my legs weren’t feeling great while Bryan finished a full one. I spun out a bit longer on the road hoping to start a spark in my legs but really wasn’t too worried about it at this point. I got back to the house, ate and put my legs up and then ate again.

Following Bryan and Sully around

Before leaving I changed into my kit, filled bottles and went through the schedule with Sully for feeds and then followed Bryan out of the house. The race starts on an uphill and is pavement for about 2-3 minutes before reaching the dirt. I followed Bryan up and down some hills to warm up to help get my heart rate up before the uphill start and then cruised around till the race and touched base with Sully again before the start.

Back row is where it’s at

Even Sully’s hand up couldn’t save me- Photo: Kenny When

So glad to be done!

Never a dull moment with these two!t

We left Boulder after law school and headed towards Ogden to stay there for the night. Wayne moved there in February and we were the first official visitors. Luckily for us, he’s still looking for a job and rode with us in the morning. It was my first ride on the bike and I couldn’t believe how responsive it felt climbing, but didn’t feel like I sacrificed anything on the decent either, although Wayne and Sully stayed significantly ahead of me. Wayne and I have matching helmets to go with our matching brain injuries! 

The first ride we did in California was around Lake Folsom. Sully has ridden around there and thought it was be a good location for intervals, it wasn’t. But still a lot of fun, smooth trails to spend time on and continue to get acclimated to my bike.

Our next stop was Santa Cruz, which was amazing. Not just for the riding but the forests are awe-inspiring. The redwoods that grow there remind you just how insignificant you are, and yet awake and inner desire to always spend your days wisely (deep, I know-thanks law school). The trails around there are unlike anywhere else I have ridden. It makes sense why so many bike companies are located there, the perfect place to test equipment. I can’t even describe how amazing the trails are so here are some photos (worth at least 1,000 words). If you mountain bike at all, this is certainly a destination worth going to.

House hunting

I may have had excess amounts of candy before riding the teeter-totter 7 to 8 times…

Re-rooting with nature after law school (get it because it’s tree pose for yoga)

Sorry ladies, Wayne is off the market

I feel as if the tension I have been walking around with during law school is finally leaving my body. I’m returning to a normal sleep schedule and a normal consumption of coffee (at least for me). Somebody told me before law school started that the first year will really turn you inside out, I thought it was an exaggeration before I began and now I realize it’s the perfect way to describe the year. 

California recovery day done right!

They say you never forget how to ride a bike, however, some of my moves were pretty questionable after five months off the mountain bike.

At least I can still wheelie!

I had good intentions of spending Spring Break doing homework, but that presented a challenge once arriving in Colorado and the trails being soooo close. Just for the record I did actively engage in finding and landing an internship for the summer, that counts as school work, right? It will be in Rapid City, SD, while not in Colorado it was an opportunity that was too good to turn down and at least it’s the hills, plenty of riding, closer to Sully, and a host to a few races that seem like they’ll be pretty fun, but will still head to CO for a handful. It might also help me figure out if I want to continue pursuing a law degree or not.

When I got to Boulder, Sully spent the next morning fixing my cross bike from when I broke off the rear derailleur, he switched out my tires (what girl doesn’t love new shoes?!?) and did something to
the rear wheel that I hadn’t noticed needed fixing. We went for a short ride after that, just to see how everything felt on the bike–I’ve known this now for a while but having a functional rear derailleur really makes the rides more fun! We headed to meet some friend for Happy Hour, which was much needed to acclimate back in to the Boulder Culture.

Squad goals.

I got on a mountain bike for the first time since last October. The guys at Republic Cycles in Boulder set me up with a sweet Rocky Mountain Instinct, the one do-it-all mountain bike, and it did. I was eternally grateful for the Maxxis tires that came on it, which saved my life a few times from going off the trail. I’ve not only missed riding my mountain bike but the camaraderie of being on the trail, riding with friends, running into other friends, being a rolling carnival is really the best way to describe it. We then went out for tacos and Sully got one with kale on it, I asked if I could try it which I did and then he said, “you didn’t like it did you?” I shook my head no…he stated, “you’ve been away from Boulder for too long and have too much kale immunity.” It’s not the same staple in Vermillion as it is in Boulder.

Power Move!

The next ride we did at Hall Ranch, which I’ve always had a rocky relationship with. Most of it is a rock garden. It’s always challenging as the only way you can get better there is to ride there, nothing else translates to getting in shape for insane power moves and at the same time a finesse that somedays is there and others not. It’s my favorite trail depending on the day and this ride it started out as my least favorite trail. They reworked a few of the little sections which I bobbled over and stepped off, and turned awkwardly, and put a foot down, and sighed…a lot. Sully kept reassuring me that he’d ridden recently with people who didn’t get the same sections, he always so encouraging. I, however, kept blaming the fact that maybe I should ride a mountain bike more than once every 5 months. I somehow managed to make it to my nemesis the “big rock” which I spent 4 months one year working on getting up; now was the real challenge of seeing if any of it had been retained. The first approach I rode my line and managed to get my front wheel on, okay not bad. The second approach I hit the same line as the first and a few grunts and power moves later I was on the top, “Oh my gosh! I made it!!” I went back down and rode it up a few more times just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. Feeling a little more confident in my riding skills we rode to the top, headed over to the loop and then charged back down.

Sully was in a good spot to catch me..and take a photo

 Once again I found Sully waiting for me at the bottom of the rock in a position to catch me if I did tumble over, fortunately it did not happen, and I’m still not sure if he would be able to catch me if I did, but it is a really sweet gesture. I continued on my way not wanting to put a foot down. Minus one turn at the top (the sharp left hand drop, that I never get) I rode the whole way down without stopping or putting a foot out. I felt satisfaction knowing that my downhills skills (mostly the bike) were on par for the occasion.

I then went up to my parents house to spend sometime with them and see some friends, which is always so nice, both seeing my parents and friends. I did some riding around my hometown, which is always so hard because most of my rides I just look up and envision the amazing trail system we could have there, one of these days! I also started back with a coach, which makes dealing with the headwinds so much better in Vermillion. I’m pretty excited with the workouts he has structured for me and seeing where the race season will take me. It’s been nice getting back to that structure, I didn’t realize how much I missed it until it started.

More Trails, Please!

I used to think my bikes didn’t require much maintenance and then I moved away from my mechanic. 

I haven’t been outside on a bike since mid-December and so when temperatures finally reached nearly 65 degrees I jumped at the chance to get outside in minimum layers. Not wanting to ride my road bike because it needs some work opted for my cross bike. Plus then I could get on the back gravel roads with more ease. With no real route in mind I just started riding and formulating a plan to loop it all back. I was only about 8 miles into my ride when I started going down a hill full of peanut-butter sticky gooey mud. I even turned onto this road because it looked less muddy than the one I was on. Alright I’ll just take it easy and get through the ravine onto the other side, it looked a little bit drier. I was sliding/pedaling down this hill when I looked down and saw my chain slip off the front chainring. I tried to navigate over to the side so I could stop and put it back on but didn’t have enough momentum so had to get off in the middle of the muddy section. I was thinking about how 

Too much power….

dirty I was going to get trying to negotiate the chain back onto the chainring when I noticed that that wouldn’t be a problem– because the slack that cause my chain to fall off was there because I had managed to rip the rear derailleur right off. At this point, 8 miles from town I proceed to begin to laugh, hysterically. Which is quite the upgrade from this fall when I suffered a mechanical and threw my bike in the ditch and sat down and cried. Realizing how far I was from town, on some back road with a “minimum maintenance” sign on it there was only two things to do- start walking and start calling for a ride back. The walking proved to be much more challenging than I had thought. The mud that had caked my bike added at least 50 pounds (only a slight exaggeration), a lot of heaving and hoeing to get 200 yards back out of the mud. Eleven minutes later (I’m so weak-‘it’s like the push-up I did last year isn’t even relevant’-Liz Lemon) I had made it out, finally resorting to dragging my bike by the handlebars, and trying to stay upright as my shoes became engulfed in the mud. I found a stick after I was out of the thick of it and cleared off as much mud as I could so that the wheels would spin, thus making walking easier. I began to go 

Dirt is the new pink

down my call list, I tried a few different people with no answer and figured I would just keep calling until I got someone or made it back to the major highway to hitch hike back to town (Wayne would be so proud if I did manage that). Fortunately I was able to get ahold of the same friend who picked me up this fall and saved me from getting into the back of someone’s truck and being the start of a bad Lifetime movie. I managed to get the bike home and give it a bath–it looks like a pretty clean break at the hanger with no damage to the rear derailleur, frame, or wheel. Sully reminded me later when I was crying about it that it was just a bike. 

It took me a while to post because I wasn’t sure what to talk about–I spent most of 

Feeding my soul

Christmas Break trying to feed my soul with nordic skiing, biking, hiking and avoiding anything law related. I gave back my mountain bike because the contract was over and with the option to purchase I couldn’t justify spending more money than my tuition on a bike that just sat in my house begging to be ridden. It’s been weird, like when I broke my leg in college and all of sudden wasn’t an athlete. I’ve been defining myself as an endurance mountain biker but without a mountain bike I feel like I’m having to redefine who I am. This resulted in crying a lot, wondering if I was slowly morphing into a person I might not recognize and wondering if it would be worth it. I struggled with coming back to law school and when I finally left for school turned around twice on the drive wondering what the heck am I doing. I even made a deal with myself that if my grades were below a certain average I wouldn’t come back but unfortunately (or fortunately) did better and so resorted to coming back with a little better attitude. I’d like to say that has made all the difference but it still seems that something deep inside is begging for more. I’ve applied to a few other programs at this point, nothing law related, just to see what might come of it. And the option to transfer law schools is still on the table. I just don’t know how much of it is environmental and how much of it is actually the law school process. 


I was able to get some nordic skiing done the past two months when we had snow, and have been running more. Sully was here for about a week and we did a 4-mile race. He beat me by 20 seconds and paced me for a mile or so and then I couldn’t keep up as he slowly edged ahead. I’d like to say that it was because he came from altitude but Sully is deceivingly fast, I thought this might be the one race I would beat him at, doing a 7:46 mile pace. It’s the first race we’ve finished together; the last one I dropped out of so joked how he could pace me again for a bit and then I’d just pull off the course. This semester, I’ve tried to make a point of going to Sioux Falls once a week to ride inside at a shop which is nice to (a) start doing some interval work (b) be surrounded by people who ride (c) stock up on groceries.

I’ll be racing for World Bicycle Relief again this year, which I’m really excited for. I haven’t thought too much about what races to do besides Leadville and even that seems like a maybe somedays. It’s been strange to think that at this point last year I had my bike, a training plan, a coach and this year I’m just like #yolo! (you only live once–all the cool kids are saying it.) We have spring break next week so hoping to use that time to start figuring out summer plans and spend some time outside on bikes!! 

Nordorking

The most frustrating thing is that all the misery and discomfort I feel is totally normal for law students and not uncommon at all. People wouldn’t keep coming to law school if it wasn’t worth it, would they? I guess that’s what keeps me, misery loves company and there is no better place to surround yourself in that stew than in law school. Someone once told me that if you just take a step, it doesn’t matter what direction you’d soon start to figure out if it was the right one or if you should have stepped in another direction. I think a lot about law school in terms of a training ride, am I getting what I need out of it or is better to cut my loses and go rogue. That’s what I’m trying to do this year is have revelations and not resolutions. Okay maybe just one resolution to spend more time upside down. 

The more blood to the brain the better, right?

“We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that’s what I want in life…It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people who are in this together. Who are on your team.” -Marina Keegan 

I haven’t posted in a while because I really wasn’t sure what I would be posting about. I had a post in my head all about withdrawing from law school; and well since the last day to withdraw has passed, I suppose I will write about staying. But first all about South Dakota CX State Championship! 

I had planned on racing my crockett (geared bike) and only because of Sully’s voice in my head saying “bring your single speed just incase something happens to the crockett when preriding” I brought my single speed. I did two preride laps on my crockett. On the first lap after climbing a hill and having it flatten out a bit, I went into a turn and hit a bump with my front wheel, knocking both hands off my handlebar and on the way down into smacking my

Photo Credit: Chad Pickard

handlebar with my face, by the grace of God, I was able to find the drops and save my mouth from what I imagine a great discomfort. I did the descent but realized how fatigued my hands were from the position of the hoods. Between the hand position, not wanting to break my face, and not shifting with about 6 minutes to go decided to switch to my single speed. Fortunately not much was required to switch bikes. I went up to the start line, there was one other lady and a bunch of dudes, but no other single speeders! Yes, victory would be mine. There was one big hill (the biggest I’ve seen in eastern SD thus far) and even on geared bikes people were getting off and running so figured I wasn’t at that much of a disadvantage being single speed.  

Money! Money!

I went through the finish after the first lap and thought maybe we’d be doing 3 laps total, but then they informed me there was three laps to go, oofta. The finish is flat and sends you right into two barriers with enough speed I was concerned I’d end up like the guy in the video, “Joey’s Okay” (google it) but had somewhat smooth sailing over them. I didn’t gain or lose any spots on lap two and only on the third lap did I pass someone going up the hill. I also picked up a leaf but it sounded like I was losing air in my front tire. I was sure I would wash out on the descent if that was true but also realized that the wheels I was riding on didn’t cost that much ($10) and would just ride the rim if I had to. It only took another half lap to figure out when I hadn’t gone flat that it was a leaf and I was fine. The last lap after the top of the hill I was thinking about the descent when I ran over a bunch of leaves and smashed my front wheel into a rock. Immediately I lurched forward and almost took a stem cap to the sternum, oops, don’t get complacent. Focus on right now. 

Right after finishing I was informed I won money, who knew moving to SD would have such perks!

Singlespeed queen

Leading up to the race I didn’t ride much, I took my single speed out 2 weeks ago and did about twenty miles without meaning to but the simplicity is so nice and you can just zone out, so that might be my ‘A’ bike while on the prairie. I did take my mountain bike a few weekends ago with a guy from law school who has a mountain bike, I think he might be the only in the law school with one. All the leaves had fallen so it made some descents and corners questionable but we finished mostly unscathed. It definitely made me realize how much I missed it. But the snow will be here soon I wouldn’t be doing much riding except on the trainer! 

I realized where most of my discomfort was stemming from in law school: a deep rooted sense of loneliness. I don’t mean that as in I don’t have any friends, because I do. I told Sully the other day, “I just need one person who wants to go on spirit journeys with me.” My discomfortable comes a lot from the unknown because I don’t know anyone here who has tried to train for 100 milers during law school and survived. If I stay for the second year, does it get better? Is it easier to travel? Can I have the time to go on these epic adventures? And is this how I’ll feel the rest of my life or does it get better or does it get worse? In Boulder, I felt like I could pick plenty of peoples brains in the athletic community, from nutritional habits, pros and cons of wearing bibs, what is the best route, what is a new route, race strategies, and if it’s normal to cry during a bonk. I know that I’ll find that community feeling in the legal profession eventually. I haven’t decided if it makes me feel better or worse that Even Artichokes Have Doubts.

I’m still not really sure what made me decide to stay at law school. Maybe it was enough inverted yoga poses that got more blood to my brain. I really thought I was going to leave. I have a bad habit of staying in situations longer than I should thinking that they will get better, if I just give it a little more time, it’ll change. I also hear that the first year of law school is designed to turn you inside out and most of it is spent being miserable, so I wonder if I would be having similar feelings elsewhere as well. I also worry that maybe I’m prolonging it so that I can be at peace with my decision. Like when I DNF’d at the Whiskey 50 and it took me 6 miles of trudging through the snow to cry all the tears out and be okay with the race ending at mile 13. But then I wonder how much of it is how much I hate living here and not actually law school. I also worry too much for my own good so I try not to think to far down the road. I don’t know what’s making me stay, and I don’t know if I want to leave.   

I have no classes left and now only (yeah, ONLY!) finals to get through and then a new set of skis** to christen in the Colorado Snow! 

It’s like I summoned the snow-gods!

**Skate-skis for all you nordorkers who want to go when I’m back. 

-P.S. Also if you can’t tell I’m on a bit of a kick with Marina Keegan’s writing. Unfortunately her life was cut short 5 days after graduating from Yale in 2012. Check out her essay’s and stories, I feel like she’s continuously helping me develop as a person. 

After Leadville I took two weeks off the bike and tried to settle into law school. I spent the first two days crying–this is why bonking in the woods is more ideal than surrounded by people. And a good idea to have your mom around so you don’t pack up the entire car and leave. It’s not that I don’t want to be in law school I do, or at least pretty sure I do. It’s just the adjustment from Colorado to South Dakota has been a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Does this count as a trail?

I still haven’t gotten into a groove with riding. I never thought that I would feel so claustrophobic in the vastness of the open prairie, but it’s a little unnerving with how much space there is. If someone is chasing you, there is nowhere to hide. I have no sense of direction and worry if I wander too far away I’ll just keep going. I also thought I would never miss climbing but boy I do. I used to think in terms of thousands of feet which has since been readjusted to hundreds, the most climbing I’ve had thus far is 761ft. over 50 miles (no shifting out of the big front chainring either…). Normally that would have equated to roughly 5,000 to 8,000 feet of climbing depending on the route. The one benefit is that it’s teaching me to pedal, because it’s so flat there is no coasting, just lots of pedaling.

Story of my life: Surrounded by dudes at a bike race

I also experience my first cross race here (about an hour away from school), in years past I’ve only raced one or twice a season and always on my singlespeed but decided to do it on my geared cross bike. The cross scene is still developing here so the women all race together instead of in separate categories. Which didn’t make sense to me until I showed up and there was a total of three of us for the race. There aren’t too many men either so we raced with the men cat 3/4 and the master’s category. Racing for 10 hours is very different from racing for 30 minutes. I don’t usually incorporate a warmup before my races because

At least I look fast, right?

racing for 100 miles there is plenty of time to warm up. A 30 minute race, as I’ve come to find requires a proper warm-up, when the race was ending I felt like I was just getting going. *Note to self, riding to the start line is not a sufficient warm-up.* The course was all on grass with a sandpit going through a kids playground. It was fun, hard, and depending on how you look at it I either got last, 3rd or 1st. Last because there were only three women and I was last (dropped a chain but I was out of contention before that), or 3rd because there were three of us and that at least gets me a podium spot. Or first, because I was the only woman racing in my category. I was all set to make my Irish exit until I realized I locked my keys in my car and my phone was in there. So much for not having to talk to anyone. It was actually a blessing in disguise as I had to ask someone to use their phone and then wait 30 minutes for AAA to show up. Then I started talking to people, or more they started talking to me because I was the only one they didn’t know. It’s a small group of passionate people, and it’s nice to know that they exist over here.

I have no idea what I’m doing

I have yet to see too many people when I’m out riding though. Which is a little disconcerting as I’ve had many near misses with cars. Cars here just aren’t aware to watch for cyclists on the road. I’ve taken my cross bike out just to get away and onto gravel roads away from traffic which is great, except for when I flat or double flat as I did today. The first time about 4 miles down a desolate road that had posted “travel at your own risk” at the beginning which I thought would be perfect for the bike.

 I’m still not sure what caused it and after using my spare tube decided to head back towards town. I was about 6 miles out still when I stopped to put more air in because it was looking a little low and needed to make it back to town because I have a very, very short list of people I know to call. I pulled over and touched the valve core when it blew. No! So I did what anyone would do 6 miles from town with not a soul in sight, I threw my bike and hand pump into the ditch and sat down to cry. Mid cry I stopped hoping that I would be able to find my hand pump when I finished because it’s a nice little one but then carried on for a few more minutes before digging it and my bike out of the weeds. Luckily I have one classmate’s phone number who was free to come pick me up. I was talking to Sully later about it, how alone I feel when riding and in general here and how in Colorado someone would have been out there with a spare tube. To which Sully added, “yah, and you’re a girl so you would have gotten so much free stuff in Boulder.” 

And now I do things like this…for fun