It's all about The Dirt:

Here goes my Ironhorse Bicycle Classic road race experience:

The morning was sweet. Sun was a risin’, weather was perfect, breakfast was stomached well and my routine was intact. I was smooth as silk breaking into the day without jitters or any major breakdowns.

I prepped for the ride with my new kit (translation: Cool bike clothes that make you feel faster), scanned the bike and was ready to roll… on time. For me, that’s a miracle in itself. I really didn’t have a choice when the race doesn’t wait for me, but my friends will.

I wanted to warm-up with my ipod to some rippin’ music, but then I decided to be with my thoughts. I needed to center myself on this new fast feat of feet; 5,570 feet of climbing to be exact. I learned this new breath watching technique that calmed me before a hefty ride, so I put it into action.

Then the time factor crept in. I finished my warm-up with excitement and headed down to the start not totally knowing what time it was. 7:50 was race start and I knew that I needed to hustle. Time was ticking and my heart started beating fast, knowing that it was going to be close. I got to the spot and saw the groups all lined up, so I jumped a curb on my road bike (bad) and bolted to the start. Whew! I had 2 minutes to spare, trying to look cool like I planned it. The pros call it a “pro-start”, but my nerves were a rattled like a sweating amateur. I don’t think I’d do that again on purpose.

And we’re off! Cruising with “the girls” was amazing. Estrogen rolling thunder is how I describe the sound. 42 women in a pack all squeezed together whirring with the road in harmonious unison. The energy was definitely addicting and swept me through the Valley with ease. As we carried each other through the only flat section, the group morphed into different shapes: Ovals, squares and circles, all snuggled together like bugs in a rug. Some women got pushy (surprising, huh?) and one feisty chick sneaks into my spot within an inch of my bars, intimidating me to back off. I didn’t feel like wrecking (crashing) right out of the gate, so passing her on one of the climbs was definitely satisfying. Girls can get nasty!

As the group broke up on the first tough climb, one rider had an asthma attack. We were all gasping for air pushing as fast as we could up, but hearing someone breathing through a straw was rattling. And I thought MY body was crying for air!
I looked over to make sure she was okay, and she nodded a yes. This was the easy climb… I couldn’t imagine what the rest of the ride would be for her.

The rollers (translation: Small hills up, but not as much down) began with speed. The best part about this section of the race is that your heart gets somewhat of a break before the wicked, high altitude, 6-mile climb up Coal Bank Pass. I was with a pack of 4 women sailing past the touring folks just enjoying the ride. I picked up another water bottle on-the-fly from my husband, and then lost my chain and had to stop. I fixed it and hammered up ahead to catch my little posse, otherwise I would have been “behind” in my race game.

There’s a feeling I get after I’ve ridden mainly uphill for 29 miles or so and when I arrive at the Coal Bank climb, it always humbles me. At an altitude of about 9,000 feet to start, the body doesn’t quite function at optimum power. My head starts to mess with me too. A sharp turn begins the 6-mile climb, trying to suppress the feeling of dread that starts to wash over me.

How much can I put out? Will the climb go faster today? Have I eaten enough? Can I keep my thoughts in check?

The mental game begins. Drink. Eat. Power, steady but fast. Keep looking up. Strong legs. Stay relaxed. Positive self-talk throughout. Stand, sit and listen to waterfalls flow as I pass. Soak it all in… and then I was at the top!! A joy worth breathing for.

Now is where the fun begins. This is not for the faint-hearted. I fly down a mountain at 47 mph+ on a windy, twisty road with tight turns, no guardrails in places and descend 808 feet in 2 miles. It’s like jumping out of an airplane (I imagine), hoping and praying that everyone stays out of your way and your bike doesn’t spontaneously explode at any second. It’s one of the biggest rushes ever.

Back to climbing… again. One more climb. Molas pass tops out at 10,900 feet and kicks my butt! It’s deceiving because it doesn’t look steep and it’s not too long, but the body revolt starts to kick in: Crampy legs, achy back, lungs are tired, but morale can empty the tank. The climb begins with a hairpin turn and a gusty headwind EVERY time! The sharp wind in the face is enough to zap the energy out of my legs. I just always remember it doesn’t last and as soon as you round the bend, the wind calms. I felt super strong all the way to the top. I love to climb.

I topped out at Molas Pass with one more descent to go… the tough one. Winter was brutal on this road. Pot holes, ruts, rough asphalt, and blue circles painted everywhere to warn you of obstacles. I compared it to a mountain bike ride on singletrack where you had to pick a line through rough terrain. Trying to go as fast as I can, navigating through tight turns, people and freaky drop-offs. Danger at it’s finest… yes, I’m a thrill-seeking junkie.

The final stretch was the sprint to the finish. 3 hours 14 minutes later. My best time yet, and one of the biggest smiles ever.

Wanna join me next year? It’s a ride you’ll never forget…

Photos courtesy of Animas Media

11… what does it mean?

• A rocket must travel at over 11km per second to escape the Earth’s gravity.

• The space shuttle went up on its 11th mission, weighing 11 tons and fixed an errant satellite on the 11th day of the 11th month.

• The deepest point of the ocean floor is 11km at the bottom of the Mariana Trench.

• The average adult male heart weighs 11 ounces.

• The number 11 is a prime number, which cannot be divided by anything other than itself.

• World War I ended on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.

• “Two pillars standing side by side will support far more than twice of what either pillar would individually.” ~Jerry J. Davis

Here’s 11 hints for life:

1. It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return. But what is more painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let that person know how you feel.

2. A sad thing in life is when you meet someone who means a lot to you, only to find out in the end that it was never meant to be and you just have to let go.

3. The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you’ve ever had.

4. It’s true that we don’t know what we’ve got until we lose it, but it’s also true that we don’t know what we’ve been missing until it arrives.

5. It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone – but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.

6. Don’t go for looks, they can deceive. Don’t go for wealth, even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright.

7. Dream what you want to dream, go where you want to go, be what you want to be. Because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do.

8. Always put yourself in the other’s shoes. If you feel that it hurts you, it probably hurts the person too.

9. A careless word may kindle strife. A cruel word may wreck a life. A timely word may level stress. But a loving word may heal and bless.

10. The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best of everything they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.

11. Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, ends with a tear. When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you’re the one smiling and everyone around you is crying.

~ Unknown

“Eleven Hints for Life” shared from Lance Ekum @ The Jungle of Life.

11 sign photo
11 painting photo

Sometimes when I blog, I feel like I’m writing to a screen that has no end. It’s open, yet it’s closed. It’s free, yet it feels somewhat caged in cyberspace. It’s a white screen with a black hole. What do the faces of the readers look like? Are there smiles? Does it go in one ear and out the other? How many thousands of other words have you been inundated with before you read this?

Where’s the connection amidst the clicks and scrolls?

Hello, is there anybody out there?

Where is the personal link behind the box?

Facebook, you knew that the mastermind behind the computer has feelings… and you capitalized on connection.

When you start a blog, there’s a rolling momentum that encourages you to forge ahead. The thrill of clicking the “Publish” button and sending a post out to elicit some sort of connection or share some tidbits of knowledge that I stumble upon. The new and exciting feel of jumping on a new bike for the first time… or maybe just a new life.

Woo hoo!! The creativity, ideas, and blog posts spew out onto the screen with ease.

Then I feel like I’m just writing on a wall. Yes, you all can see but it feels like it floats out there as cyber bits of rock among the asteroids. Everybody is blogging with gazillions of words. Blogs are tangled like snarled ponytails (ask my daughter about those). When I feel discouraged, then comes life. The idea pipeline gets clogged. Muddle in the middle. Life oozes into the cracks that allowed the expression to escape, stifling the time and energy that zaps to a halting stop. Now is where the hard part comes. Forcing posts or pushing creativity does NOT work… the flow needs to re-emerge as something new and fresh once again.

So I’m “back in the saddle” once again: Riding, writing and life. The new flow goes, the creativity re-awakened and the energy disperses more evenly to create balance. I completed my road race goal and come back to tipping the scales the other way… at least for a while.

But that’s what a scale is for, right? To hit the tipping point, then come back home to balance.

What comes with me is an understanding that there is some tidal movement: It can be a tidal wave, and then tiny lapping waves with barely a ripple. There is a time for certain moments to occur and then allowance to move on.

Thanks for hangin’ with me through Missing-in-action-May. Just know that I will always be real, and “real” is taking breaks too.

❤ ❤ ❤

“When you find yourself being ruled by the scores and outcomes of your physical tasks, build a stronger, more sublime base; focus on the process and appreciate each moment of play. You can do this by asking the question: ‘Why am I doing this… really?’ Get in touch with your inner, deeper motives for entering this particular arena of sports and fitness−why you play the game. You’ll discover that much of it has little to do with the outcome or the product. It is the process, joy, satisfaction and fun in the execution of a particular skill or move that turns you on. There is a strong divine connection between you and your sport. This is the dance that we refer to in which you totally give in to the natural movement of your physical routine. No need to think; silence the conscious mind. Put all aside; just play and dance the dance.” Working Out, Working Within, Jerry Lynch and Chungliang Al Huang

No more training for me… just dancing!