I’ve never cried tears of happiness during a bike race before. I’m not really the crying type. But after 350 long, beautiful, painful, lonely, wonderful miles in Kanza country, I rolled into Emporia on Saturday afternoon with a lump in my throat. Turning onto Commercial Street and entering the buzz and excitement of the DK finish line, everything started to sink in and the tears started to flow. DKXL was one of the first races I’ve ever signed up for that I didn’t really know if I could do. 350 miles in one go is huge. Plus, this year has been a rollercoaster of highs and lows. It’s been the most stressful, busiest, least training-focused year ever. I’ve been busy building my coaching company and expanding my roles with Shimano. We had a couple major product launches (did you see the new GRX…. Hot damn!) in the past few weeks and I even spent the final week before DK in Bellingham, Washington for a media camp for the XT and SLX launch. Needless to say, training has not been a top priority. But as we lined up on Friday afternoon of DK weekend, looking out into the afternoon haze, trying to glimpse what was to come over the next 24+ hours, I exhaled all the stress and nervousness that had been building through the past few months and breathed in the excitement that was bubbling up at the start line. The final minutes ticked away before the start and then we were off. In the most pleasant and casual fashion, 80 riders rolled out of town with hopes of returning with stories of victory, of self-discovery, of redemption or success… whatever that meant for each of us. For me, finishing was the priority. Beyond that, I only had two goals: first was to be the most positive, supportive person I could be throughout the event. I’d cheer for everyone as we passed each other back and forth. I’d help people when they needed it and I’d smile as much as possible. The second was to just roll with the punches. Flat tire? No problem, I can fix that. Bad stomach? All good, just slow down and take care of yourself. I was going to make it to the end one way or another and hopefully help motivate others along the way as well. After about 15-20 miles of casual riding, the group started to split apart. Hills and rutted roads helped with the separation. As the front runners went up the road, it took everything in me to not chase them down, to try and hang onto the front men’s group as long as possible like I typically do in gravel races. I knew I needed to be patient this time around and I’m honestly surprised I was able to curb my competitive side and just settle in to a manageable long-term pace. As we chugged through the first 50 miles or so, I happily found myself riding with good friend Dan Hughes. There’s nothing like a familiar face and solid wheel to chase to make you smile and remember we’re all out there together. We got to chat a little bit, take a few pulls for each other, and joke around in front of the photographers. Dan has taught me many important things about gravel racing throughout the years. The most important certainly is how to time the perfect uphill attack for the classic “lookback” when photographers are shooting from the top of the hill. I guess the next lesson will be how you can still steal the shot from behind…. Dan and I also got to goof around at the Salsa Chase the Chaise Lounge. This brand activation is the best, most original and fun thing I’ve seen in a long time. Having riders stop mid-race to sit on a random chaise lounge and take funny photos is perfectly gravel. It’s just silly enough to remind everyone that we’re all out here on aero bars and franken-bikes doing ridiculous things and that we should just smile and enjoy some fun. So of course, Dan and I honored this with a foot massage and plenty of laughs. Eventually, Dan and I parted ways and I headed into the night for a long 9-hour roll through the Kanza darkness. Hands down, riding through the night is my absolute favorite part of DKXL. Watching a glowing orange and red sun melt away below the horizon and then smelling the crisp twilight air. It’s incredible. The dead of night is exceptionally dark, especially this year with no moon in sight. The stars glisten in the deserted sky and fireflies buzzed around, blurring the line between sky and earth. It was breathtaking. So much so that I stopped and turned off my lights, sat down in the middle of the road and just looked up to take it all in. This is gravel, it’s adventure and discovery at its finest. And it left me with the perfect sense of peace, surrender, and gratitude to be out there experiencing it all. Until suddenly a pack of coyotes started yipping and howling close by, pulling me out of my trance and got me quickly back on my bike. And just like that, I was rolling along, smiling and so deeply happy to have had that moment. At daybreak, just as the sun was rising with another brilliant orange and fiery red display, I rode out of Cottonwood Falls and hit an amazing section of road that rolled north for miles. I’d just filled up on fresh drinks, a breakfast sandwich from Casey’s and a red bull and I felt like a new person. I’d made it through the night, nothing was seriously hurting, my body was thankfully holding together, and it was at this moment I knew I could make it to the finish. Of course, I knew there were still 150 long, hot, hilly miles ahead. But something inside me just clicked and said, yep, we’re doing this. And that was a very good feeling. Over the next few hours, the temperature started to rise and I started to suffer from the heat. My stomach stopped wanting food so I was relying on liquid calories for the most part. I bought a big bag of ice at every checkpoint town and filled my bottles, my camelback, my sports bra, and some ice socks that I’d brought along in my pack. I used every last bit of water on my bike to spray myself down and I ticked off mile by overheating mile. This was the lowest point of the whole event for me but never once did I think about stopping. Ever since that moment in Cottonwood Falls, I was convinced I’d get through and I wasn’t going to argue with that feeling. So, I suffered on and finally cooled off enough to start enjoying the ride again. By this point, I knew I was riding in 3rd place and despite telling myself that I wasn’t there to race, that I was just there to finish, I couldn’t help but let my competitive nature take hold. How cool would it be to nab a podium spot at DKXL? The problem was, I had slowed up a bit through the previous section while I was dealing with the heat and Katie Strempke, an incredibly nice and super strong racer, had caught up and I saw her ride past me as I sat and ate a popsicle at the last checkpoint town. That’s when the competitive fire really revved up. With 40 miles to go I felt like I was in the first 40 miles of the race. My legs felt amazing, my stomach was full of icy cold Red Bull and water, and I started to fly up the hills and race down the descents. I tucked and powered through the flats and quickly rode past Katie, saying a quick hello and good job, secretly hoping she wouldn’t challenging me to the finish because I didn’t know how long the caffeine and sugar would last. In reality, I don’t think Katie even cared I was there. She rode the whole race so consistently and had her game plan dialed. She’s probably better at following her own plan of steady riding with the goal of finishing and not getting caught up in the race than I am. In either case, Katie motivated me to ride faster than I thought I could through those last few miles and I’m very thankful to have had that motivation. The last few miles of DKXL were emotional for me. And that was weird. I didn’t really know what was going on and the people around me must have thought I was nuts. I was a sniffling mess and just kept bursting out with a cackley laugh like I was losing my mind. And honestly, I kind of was. The whole DKXL experience was overwhelming and I wasn’t prepared for the emotions. But as I started down Commercial Street and saw the finish line appear with the familiar friendly faces of Jim Cummins and Kristi Mohn waiting, the tears turned to smiles and laughter - normal laughs this time. All the finish line hugs still give me goosebumps thinking about them. Kristi wrapped me so tightly that I felt like I was floating. I’m pretty sure Meredith Miller actually picked me up off the ground so that I was floating. It took a few minutes for everything to sink in but the excitement and support I felt at the finish line is indescribable. After finally coming down from this finish line high, I heard that Nick was just 30 miles out from the finish and that high came rushing back. I went through the same set of emotions I’d just come out of as Nick crossed the line and I got to be the person on the finish line doling out hugs. Looking back a week or so later and I’m still in awe of the amazing friends who’ve supported this crazy adventure from the start. From Dani and Emily sending Dad Jokes all day to keep me laughing, to the encouraging texts from Liz that made me smile and dig a little deeper each time. For all the crazy long and ridiculous rides that I’ve made my friends go on throughout the years. It all adds up and each played a part of this finish for me. The support and positivity throughout the gravel community is infectious. It’s the most inspiring and encouraging community and I’m so thankful to be a part of it.
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Emily Schaldach, Kaylee Blevins, and a group of local riders from Durango challenged the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic to equalize the payout between men and women in the road race. This debate has been going on for over a decade and numerous women have reached out to the organization to change the payout. We took a new approach and rallied a large group of people that the director would have a harder time saying no to. It took lots of women, men, local organizations, and even one company offering to pay the difference. We sure did do it though — this year the race paid out an equal amount of money to the men and women as they crossed the line after the historic 50 mile race against the train from Durango to Silverton, CO. (If you’re looking for the gritty details, check this LINK from the Durango Herald article) Starting a race is scary. Starting a race and already knowing your undervalued makes the ol’ stomach pit even deeper. Cycling is men’s sport – we are reminded of that with unequal payout, lack of representation, and chamois that simply don’t fit well. The step-through bike frames and pink clothing remind us we are not here to race, instead to look good and clean and sweet on a bike. In this “men’s sport”, the kid’s development program in Durango had more girls than boys out there shredding this year. Just this weekend, American women won all three races at the World Cup in The Czech Republic. We train damn hard, put up with the degrading comments on group rides, and keep showing up. We are here. We are all just hoping to be recognized, seen, and acknowledged. Race organizers have a choice. It’s easy to logic their way out of equal payout. There are fewer women, we don’t typically race as fast, and our entries don’t bring in the same amount of money. But, values. Let’s honor and respect the women and girls who show up and who push through this male-dominated sport to find their own freedom and happiness on a bike. Everyone deserves joy, representation, inspiration, and to be compensated equally for putting in incredible effort and dedication. We will keep showing up and keep bringing more people with us. If you have the power to tell us that we are equal or that we are valued in this sport, step up and equalize that payout. The women will thank you, you can ignore the men who complain about losing a snippet of their privilege, and the young girls around you will hopefully only know a sport where they are taken seriously and not put on the back row from the very beginning. After more than a decade of numerous women contacting the Iron Horse, we have finally been able to level the payout in the road race. It took rallying a group of women and men in a strong community effort to make the change. I’m thrilled that after a decade of women reaching out that the payout was finally changed. I’m certainly thankful for the men who stepped up to help us. At the same time, I can’t wait for the day when it doesn’t take men stepping up to make other men listen. It doesn’t take much – just be nice, respectful, and treat others the way you’d like the be treated. Be kind and encouraging and trust that we can and will do things that are challenging. It means a lot when men are supportive without being degrading and honor that we have skills, and also deserve the joy and sense of freedom that draws all of us to the cycling world. So, here’s an enthusiastic cheers to big smiles for feeling valued, and another cheers to pushing for equality, and a third for continuing to hold our ground in this “men’s sport” – boobs and all.
Dani and I headed out to Da Beque, Colorado earlier this month to kick off the 2019 season with a weekend of camping, gravel racing, and plenty of suffering to go around. We’ve both been deep in the world of work this spring so it was great to emerge from our laptop black holes and spend a whole weekend outside, out of service, and totally off the grid. We were promised a wild course at Roll Mossif’s inaugural Wild Horse gravel race and boy, did they deliver. This incredibly beautiful and challenging 70+ mile race had a little bit of everything. From bumpy gravel roads to vibrant red dirt to giant ruts that would sneak up on you for an “oh crap!” moment about every mile or so. Wild Horse had it all. We both rode our Firefly CycloGravel adventure bikes and they were the perfect choice for this mixed terrain kind of riding. Wild Horse is part of Colorado’s newest series of gravel events put on by Roll Massif and it’s going to be a regular stop on the Bitchn Grit schedule after such a fun race this year. The whole event is hosted on a private ranch just east of Palisade, Colorado and takes the more casual “segment racing” approach to gravel that I’ve come to love. Instead of racing from start to finish, there were two timed sections to throw down on. After finishing each segment, Dani and I could stop and hang out for a little, regroup, and then roll out to enjoy the ride together. This is the best way to start the season, a little racing to get the competitive juices flowing but plenty of fun to remember what this whole racing thing is all about. The first timed segment, the shorter of the two, was about 5 miles long and mostly uphill. There was a short, treacherous descent about halfway through and then finished with a leg-shattering steep kicker just for fun. Dani and I both kicked out some cobwebs on this section, reminding ourselves what it feels like to go that deep. Finishing strong, we snagged the two fastest women’s times on the day. After gathering ourselves at the top, we head off for a spirited ride. Super steep descents and rugged, rut-filled roads had us both checking ourselves and reminding each other that we weren’t racing this part. But just because you’re not racing doesn’t mean the course isn’t difficult. Dani and I were huffing and puffing our way through the first half or the race, just imagining what was to come on the second half with the dreaded long climb segment to come. Thankfully, there was a great aid station halfway through the race with snacks, drinks, extra sunscreen, and Oreos to float our spirits. We fueled up and then set off to knock out the second half of the day, the one with a 15-ish mile uphill timed segment that I think we were both dreading. But we pedaled along with friends which made the miles pass faster and faster until we hit the start of the segment. From there, we both got after it, chasing each other and pushing each other to dig a little deeper. We both finished that segment completely shattered. Coasting down the final descent and then creeping across the finish line, we immediately sniffed out the post-race cookout that featured the most delicious BBQ as well as some much needed beers. It was quite the day of riding out there and we were ready sit back and relax and take in the gorgeous countryside views. It was also time to win some cowboy hats for going 1-2 for the overall podium. Not a bad way for the team to kick things off this season. Up next, we have some exciting events and trips planned. I’m heading to Kansas to attempt the 350-mile Dirty Kanza XL on the least amount of training that anyone has ever done before. OK, maybe that’s an overstatement but it sure feels like it after this nutsy spring of travel and little bike riding. Dani has some mountain bike races coming up and then we both head to Steamboat to see what we can do at the exciting and fiercely competitive SBTGV gravel race in Steamboat Springs. Emily is on a bikepacking mission this summer and we’ll all be setting out for some nights in the woods together with scary stories and s’mores in tow. It’ll be cross season and crummy cross weather before we know it. So now is the time to bask in the Colorado sun, get the big miles in, and enjoy the opportunities that summer always seems to bring. It’s going to be a big year. Better buckle up.
I have been exclusively focused on this sport for about 3 years now. Turns out, just telling yourself "I'm only going to dedicate my training to Cyclocross" is the equivalent to patting oneself on the back after posting that overtly controversial tweet to the world wide web. Did you really do anything there?
Don't get me wrong, I am dedicated to CX, but I did not take the deliberate steps necessary this year to be personally successful in the sport. I could immaturely blame my ability to not sit still, while complaining how I'm sooOoO busy all of the time. I'm a walking oxymoron. Pray for my husband and coach My teammate Kristen and I, set out the plan to start a CX team. After a year of solo flying, I this is very much what I needed. I'm a pack animal, and appreciate her patience when listening to my crazy philosophies and hypothesis on every damn thing. Pray for her too, because like Alex and Grant, she's stuck with me. As you may know, we try to communicate the proper balance of work and life. I'm a big believer in purpose, value, and transferable knowledge in everything I do. As one of my friend Tim says. "it's all the same shit". He's not wrong. I work as a Engineering Program Manager for Hitachi as well as train and race at the professional level. Think of each one of these things as cross training, but for your mind. One could argue that sitting in a room filled with with technical Engineers and Programmers as the mental fortitude needed to hang with Ruth Winder for her 6 hour "base ride" (muah, Ruth) Thus we come back to that word, "deliberate". I do not talk often about my career to shove it in your face. My intention is to let others know that work/training/racing is not only the majority of those who race, but it is the majority of women who race professional women's CX in the U.S. Who by the way, are ranked #2 in the world. We're talking racers who are Scientists, Doctors, PhD's, Lawyers, Teachers, students, c... who have insane and consistent results. It can work, and it does. It is not my intention to knock on those who solely race. If you can make it work, and that is what you want, that's absolutely incredible and respected. After 2 years of Grant (and Meredith) telling me to slow the eff down, it finally hit me. Back in August, I was slapped with significant adrenal fatigue, with the risk of chronic implications. This was due to a stressful work environment tied with my inability to utilize the bike as an outlet, but as a thing I needed to do. As athletes we are tough, but as a downside you can ignore warming signs. For me, I was not over-trained, it was mental stress and anxiety, and that shit is real. Everything felt hard, and could have easily been misconstrued as losing interest in racing, which was my initial (feared) reasoning. I would take a stressful work day and throw myself into my workouts as if it were my only purpose. When those didn't go well, I found myself fall into a depressed state. I got blood tests and worked with Grant to devise a recovery and rebuild plan. No TV, no screens after a certain hour, no added sugars, no stimulants (coffee), no downers (alcohol) of any kind, and no processed foods. It took about two weeks of “off” to start feeling like myself again. My first workout back was Boulder Cup, and although it hurt (ego and body), it was day 1. Since then we have been working to find what is right for me. Slowing down was the biggest thing. I removed any type of tempo riding, and did what I needed to do get that repeated punch sharpened, while keeping my endurance up. Spent much more time strength training and SO much more time recovering. Drinking water, timing the right kinds of foods correctly, body work, etc. I still have a beer (.. or more), because it's what the body wants. I'm not overly picky regarding food, I just eat what it wants and make sure it gets enough. Yes, my body wants Oreos sometimes. Physiologically, well, I began taking realistic and objective thoughts into what I was feeling and why. I wasn’t handling these stressors, but rather ignoring them and pushing through. Grant really helped with this. He holds up the mirror and it ain’t always pretty. Most of the time it isn’t pretty. Although the timing was rough, I needed this type of introspection. Additionally, I have spent a lot of time this year speaking with Dietitians, Sports Physiologists, Coaches, Doctors, etc, because these individuals are experts, they have dedicated their lives to understanding YOUR body. I'm not interested in your YouTube channel regarding your ketogenic diet plan, nor do I want to hear about "How I increased my FTP by 50 watts". Sure, stories and examples can be an interesting and digestible way to retain knowledge. But it's not a shortcut to solve your problems. Really put some deliberate thought into what works for you. Especially on a psychological level. After hitting my head in Tulsa, ultimately getting a concussion, I immediately felt embarrassed and just frustrated with myself. I always get hurt, it's no secret. But as Grant told me that same day: "you push yourself, that's not a bad thing, it will come together". You know what, he's right. I put myself our there, and I don't want to cover up these life moments that are so crucial to a developing athlete... or human. I had some of my best results of my life this season. I sprinted for a UCI podium (s’close), raced internationally, accepted a PMO Mananger position at new company starting in January, and started a team with one of my besties. Not to mention other life things: bought a house and adopted a (demon) pup. I'll continue towards the path of transparency, hopefully without annoying any of you too much. 2019, the year of team & career development with a focus on deliberate goals and practices. We will be sharing the stories of those who balance. Stoked for that one. Getting hurt sucks. But there are many things that don't. I love mud. And I love riding my bike in mud. It’s especially fun when a rut under the soupy, brown goop catches my wheel and throws me face first into the soft, sticky mess… all while cyclocross fans lining the racecourse shout a collective “oooohhhh” followed by laughs and gentle encouragements as I stagger to my feet. I mean, how can you take yourself seriously when this is the pinnacle of your entire season? To call the US Cyclocross National Championship race “muddy” is beyond an understatement. It’s like calling 15-time national champion Katie Compton merely a “good” rider. Nope. Like Compton, this year’s course was epic, incredibly tough, and absolutely legendary. The course was a mere two-plus mile loop twisting and turning throughout an undulating park in the heart of Louisville, Kentucky. It wound its way up and down steep hills and traversed the park with challenging off camber sections. And while the course was challenging enough on its own, as it transitioned from grass to mud it became downright diabolical. Lucky for me, I got to experience this circuit of doom twice. Once on Saturday for the single speed race (because what makes mud even more fun? Riding it with a single gear while dressed up as an 80’s women’s wrestling character… we can dive into that on another day…) and again for the Elite race on Sunday. But rather than talking about the ups and falling downs of each race I thought it would be more fun to examine the many layers of mud experienced throughout this dynamic course. Yes, there were different types of mud, very unique types in fact. The viscosity, ride-ability, soul-sucking-ness of the mud changed rapidly throughout the course making for these distinct segments featured below. For those of you who raced this course in its muddy gloriousness, enjoy reliving the nightmares. For the rest of you folks…. Just close your eyes and image the cool sliminess dripping down your neck and squishing between your hands…. Start Mud – You know what’s a good idea? Staring a race with a short, 50-meter paved downhill section that shoots straight into a soupy mess of mud and grass and ruts. Nothing like 50 women lining up elbow to nervous elbow ready to hit that section at max speed and just praying that everyone in front of you keeps it upright. Starting on the fourth row on Sunday was like doing a trust fall in middle school, just close your eyes, take a deep breath and dive in. Slip ‘n Slide Mud – Luckily, I made it through the start pretty much unscathed and we entered the slip ‘n slide section where we played bumper cars with each other. A few unlucky riders went down for the first of what was sure to be many dirt naps. This section was my favorite, it was the perfect kind of slippery mud that is all about balance and power. Slog Mud – Next up came the slog mud. This was mix of slippery and sticky mud just after the sandbox that was easy enough to navigate but that zapped your legs of power with every slow pedal stroke. This section provided a great appetizer of what was to come. Holy Shit Downhill Mud – The most exciting and my favorite part of the course came just after pit #1 when we hit a long, super-fast downhill section. It was the perfect combination of “Woohooo! This is so much fun, I’m flying,” and “Holy Shit, I just hit a rut and now I’m sliding on my face through the mud.” Luckily it was all very soft so face-planting didn’t hurt much, only the ego is still bruised at this point. I Hate My Life Uphill Mud – Basically the next 10 miles of the course was all uphill in the stickiest most soul-sucking mud you can imagine. These uphill switchbacks quickly turned into a death march rather than a run-up and I’ll admit it right here that I walked part of this. Yep, National Championship race and I was walking…slowly…while almost dying from a heart attack because it was so damn difficult. Luckily, there were tons of fans throughout this section so the internet is full of really unflattering photos of me flailing as I walked up this hill. Thanks friends…. Zonhoven Downhill Mud – After going face to face with death itself on that switchbacky section we had to basically turn ourselves around and face death once again while descending a super steep, loose drop that felt exactly like surfing Zonhoven’s iconic sandy descent. It’s another section where closing your eyes might have actually been the better choice. Where Did My Shoe Go Mud – As we reached the far side of the course, another difficult run-up with goopy, mucky mud appeared. On Saturday, this section was tough but not totally outrageous. On Sunday, however, the mud seemed to come alive, growing with every lap and grabbing hold of your feet with every step. The park’s groundskeeper is going to find 15 shoes on that hill next summer when the park finally dries out. Thank God They Opened A Grass Lane Non-Mud – For the single speed race on Saturday, we had to climb the Mount Everest of cyclocross muddy run-ups as we made our way back to pit #2. This hill literally broke my soul and had me contemplating not even racing on Sunday. Luckily, Dani, Nick, and friends peer-pressured me into racing the elite race and even more luckily, the course was rerouted through this section on Sunday, which provided a ridable grassy lane. Seriously, whoever made that call at USAC… THANK YOU. You may have just saved me from quitting bike racing all together with that glorious narrow patch of grass. Final Stretch, Are You F’ing Kidding Me Mud – After ascending the giant mud/grass hill and passing through pit #2, you hit a little bit of pavement thinking that the worst is behind you. And in reality, it is. But then, just for one last face slap, kick in the stomach, we had a short, peanut buttery section of mud with barriers. Yep, because there wasn’t enough f’ing running in this race, we needed some barriers to hop over and try and remount while ankle deep in sloppy mud. Just make sure you don’t slide off your slippery, muddy saddle while remounting because you’ll be doing it in front of all the start/finish line cameras and announcers…. Whoops.
OK. OK. In all seriousness, this muddy course was fantastic. It was a blast to ride in the places we could actually ride and then super challenging everywhere else. It was hands down the toughest, most physically demanding cross course I’ve ever raced. While Saturday’s single speed race didn’t go well for me, Sunday was much better and I’m so thankful for the supportive team around me that let me dwell on my result from Saturday for a hot minute, helped me drink a couple beers while planning crazy antics for the next day’s race, and then backed me 100% as I gave it my all on Sunday. 22nd place wasn’t what I was shooting for but I’m actually really pleased with the effort and execution. Maybe if I spent less time sliding face first through the mud or stopping to gasp for air on those treacherous run-ups I could have nabbed a top 20. But in the end, I’m happy to have survived and to have taken on this silly, crazy, ridiculously muddy and grueling course. Words: KP Photos: KP and Friends There comes a time in every cross season when I start to question my sanity. Why did I choose a sport where riding in frigid, wintery conditions is the norm? Why didn’t I stick to road racing where the biggest concern is deciding which sunny café we should stop at for a quick coffee and snack before venturing off onto a beautiful canyon climb…not whether or not I’ll get frostbite or ever be able to use my hands again. OK, OK, I exaggerate… (and I kid… love ya, roadies). We do live in Colorado where it’s not really THAT cold and I don’t often face frostbite as a real threat. But by the end of ‘cross season, the dark and wintery days do start to wear. And that is where the annual Desert Revival comes in. Four years ago, Nick and I stumbled into the best Thanksgiving tradition ever: Escape to the desert. This sunny, mountain bike-filled revival comes at the perfect time of the season, just as the cold temps become permanent and the short fall days start to drag on. We started this tradition in Sedona, Arizona or basically my favorite place on earth, but opted for the closer, more convenient Moab this year. So, after returning from a disappointing race weekend in Indiana at the Major Taylor Cross Cup, Nick and I packed up our camp gear and mountain bikes, dropped Cori off with the grandparents (she’s not much of a camping dog), and hit the road to meet up with Dani and Alex and a group or desert-loving friends for a shred-tastic couple days in Moab. While Moab didn’t offer the same warm, sunny rides that we’ve had down in Sedona, it does have the same revitalizing red sandstone rocks. There’s just something about that landscape that fills the soul. Plus, you get to feel like a superhero, scaling treacherous red rock walls on the bike, descending the steepest shit you can think of, and having no fear because it’s so damn sticky that your tires just grip and ride on… most of the time. We hit some of my favorite trails in Moab including Amasa Back and Captain Ahab. It’s amazing how quickly you can turn off the ‘cross brain and enter full mountain bike mode when you want to. Our rides included fewer miles but plenty of stops, snacks, and just general playing around on bikes. Dani and I agree we need more of this type of “training” in our lives. If not for the skills and strength you get from mountain biking, but for the fun attitude and the “lets just see if we can do it” way of looking at each challenge.
So, after spending a couple days crushing the sandstone singletrack, and getting crushed by it a as well, we’ve all returned from the desert feeling fresher, better, more excited to take on the final stretch of ‘cross season. It was the perfect reminder of why we love riding bikes, no matter what wheel size, tire width, or frame material. Bikes bring out the best in us and sometime, when we get a little stuck or a little frustrated, switching up the bike is all that we need. At least that’s the case for me. Or maybe this refreshed attitude and softened perspective is simply due to the copious number of s’mores consumed by the fireside. Hard to say. The UCI circus came to Boulder this past weekend for the annual US Open of Cyclocross race at our beloved Valmont Bike Park. Unlike the previous few years when Colorado’s summer was sticking around for a few extra months, this year was a bag of mixed fall-like conditions. Saturday was a short sleeve skinsuit kind of day with sunny skies and mild temperatures while Sunday was, well, it was a shit show. Murky conditions rolled in over the flatirons just hours after wrapping up our race on Saturday afternoon. With the temperature dropping as quickly as the snowflakes, we quickly had a slip ‘n slide cyclocross course on our hands for day 2. Muddy ruts lined by snowy, off-camber terrain made for a seriously ‘crossy’ kind of fun. The only downside was the finger-freezing 20-degree temperatures to deal with. In real ‘cross conditions like Sunday, equipment choice can play a pivotal role in the race outcome. What tires to use, how much pressure to run, should we use toe spikes, how the hell do we keep our feet and hands warm without sacrificing fit and function? Here are a couple quick thoughts on certain equipment choices and racing hacks that Dani and I used to survive the tundra conditions on Sunday. Tires and PressureDespite the dry condition on Saturday, I ran Donnelly PDX mud tires on both days of racing this weekend. I’ve been using a mix of MXP and PDX lately and I felt like the PDX side knobs dug into Valmont’s off-camber hillsides and the bumpy backside terrain a bit better. For Sunday’s slip ‘n slide race, the PDX muds were a no-brainer. The biggest decision came down to pressure. While the oily, slippery mud called for super low pressure, I found some nasty rocks camouflaged by mud during the pre-ride so I didn’t drop it too crazy low. Running 21psi up front and 21.5psi in the rear, I had a great balance of grip in the slippery sections and protection through the rocky bits. Dani ran slightly lower pressure than I did. She’s a lighter rider and has more experience riding at super low tire pressures. I’m still working on feeling comfortable and confident when my tire feels like it’s going to fold in half. Clothing, Shoes, and Gloves Clothing - Sunday’s race was COLD! The course was wet and sloppy and temperatures were far below freezing. So, Dani and I had multiple sets of clothes, gloves, and even shoes on hand to swap into after our pre-ride. It’s a pain to lug around so much gear but it’s all worth it when you show up on the start line with a clean, dry kit and warm hands and feet. Gloves -Picking the right gloves can be super challenging in cold conditions. Too thick and you can’t grab the bars or the brake levers. Too thin and your hands will freeze and stop working all together. I tried wearing rubber gloves under some thinner neoprene gloves during pre-ride and my fingers nearly froze off. So, I swapped to some thicker gloves, which were far warmer, but they were too bulky. Feeling a strong bond to Goldilocks, I finally settled on a set of lighter weight gloves with a little wind protection right before the start. These gloves ended up being the perfect fit, must be the rule of three or something, right? I’ll have to ask Goldi. But this experience helped me learn that wind protection is the key to keeping my hands warm and hopefully this will come in handy should we encounter more 20-degree races or training days. Ugh. Shoes – Dani uses little heat packs in her shoes to keep her toes warm. I accidentally took her on a Colorado winter mountain adventure ride last year and nearly froze her toes off. Ooops. So now she has to take extra care in conditions like these to keep her feet happy. I had some extra thick socks on and I made sure to keep my feet dry and clean during the pre-ride. I paired neoprene toe covers (thanks Blueseventy from my tri days!) with wind resistant shoe covers during the warm up laps to keep out the mud and cold. That way I showed up on the line with dry feet and that seemed to do the trick for most of the race. With about 1 lap to go, I passed another rider by going straight through a puddle of icy muck and my feet started freezing up after that. PedalsSpraying down pedals with WD-40 can really help with icy conditions like Sunday’s race. It helps prevent mud and ice from building up so it’s easier to clip into your pedals. Sometimes, however, on really cold, snowy, or muddy race, nothing will prevent your pedals or cleats from caking up with ice and grit. I had to ride down a steep, slippery descent unclipped on most laps on Sunday, which got pretty exciting at times. Being able to ride technical terrain with your feet unclipped is important to practice because learning to do it mid-race is not the ideal situation… trust me.
Recently I was asked who(m) I most looked up to in the sport. This has always been a hard question for me to answer, because I do not believe one person has the secret sauce to badassary. I also have issues with idolization, but that’s another story. I can start by elaborating the time spent in China this past week to paint a piece of the perspectives I'm working to embrace. Summary: “chill chill chill chill chill” - Slang dictionary master, Eric Brunner This past trip to China included eight days, two races and over 96 hours in travel via bus, train, and plane for the Bitchstix Tenspeed Hero team. Each one of our little Colorado squad has traits I sincerely admire. Most of them are very much younger than me. Well, other than KP, Grant, and Gav - but those are for another article post. Today we talk about the group formally known as the Burrito Boyz (Feat. Ian). Do you remember that time girls would classify themselves as someone from Sex and the City? (i.e. “She’s such a Miranda”) Let’s assess. Which one are you? Denzel and Eric (Deric) I’m going to describe Denzel and Eric as one. “Deric” if you will. You’re likely partial to one, but it’s more fun to give them a couple name. Eric and Denzel are seemingly quite, but maybe they’ve figured out you really do not need to be wordy to make a point. Or they’ve covered their voice through their fashionista clothing (and hair) choices. Eric raced this past year on the 303 Project with Maxx, and Denzel raced with Aevolo (unfortunately getting mono in the early season). In other words, these boys are worked. I’m pretty sure Denzel rode a grand total of 1 hard effort in three months. Does this phase them? Not really. Well, at least they aren’t all anxious about it (chill, chill, chill, chill, chill). These boys get to the point, famous for their one-liners that somehow always make sense even though you can’t specifically define them. It’s a relief to be around people who don’t need to torture you with word vomit that has no real point. The price you pay while working in Corporate IT America. I have a dictionary for Deric and decided to add to it. Want to see what the kids are saying? Check out my awful attempt at defining the new (to me) cool-kid slang below. Maxx As the other riders in China are worried about the long bus transfers between hotels, food options, and general ability to recover and stay sharp, Maxx is saying “I hope the bus gets stuck in this man hole overnight”. While we see other athletes stressing over those unnecessary stressors, Maxx is taking advantage of this trip, observing other cultures and just straight up having fun. Mentioned before, Maxx races with The 303 Project, finishing up the season with Tour of Colorado a couple of weeks before heading to China. Clearly tired from a long road season, he still took complete advantage of this trip. Aside from the light self-deprecating humor, no complaints. He is appreciative, and looks at his situations or circumstances very objectively. Fun and objective. Two traits hard to come by in a bike racer. Ian I am telling you that every single person needs a piece of Ian in them. You know those people on the internet who take pictures of themselves doing yoga poses on mountains or selfies near a waterfall? The kind who pushes their “epicness” on you? Ian is that, minus the selfies and self-timers yet 1000% more epic. He is just so damn curious and bold. Pushing himself because he wants to. He tells you whatever is on his mind, from clear observations to existential questions. Couldn’t give a damn how he’s perceived, ignoring those unnecessary things most people care about so much. Never a dull moment. His sister Molly came with us as well; the spirit is certainly genetic. You look at all the crazy things he does and just know this isn’t a show; it’s who he is. I write about these boys because they are a great example of how to be a bike racer. The mindset of camaraderie, experience, in effort to better yourself for yourself. We forget how to be a kid and we forget our “why”. Authenticity matters.
Slang Dictionary Add-ons
We’re about three weeks out until Dani and I head to China to kick off the cyclocross season at the Qiansen Trophy Cup with an impressive assortment of international racers… gulp! As we charge into mid-August it feels like spring and summer swept by in such a hurry that it’s hard to believe we don’t get to use the hashtag #crossiscoming anymore. Instead we’re stuck with Grant Holicky’s year-round reminder that #crossneverleft… Anyway, this rush into ‘cross season isn’t anything new. The season always seems to sneak up too quickly as we finish up long gravel adventures and find our regular groove on the local mountain bike trails. Then, with a blink, it’s fall and ‘cross is in full swing and it’s hard to remember what we even did during the summer let alone early spring. Even the US world cups are super early again this year, falling mid-September (fingers crossed Dani will be out racing both World Cups this year!). So, there’s really no excuse to be surprised, at least that’s what I keep telling myself as I dive into some ‘cross-specific training on these 100-degree August days. Historically, I’ve been a slow started when it comes to the season and I don’t typically dive into the first races super sharp and race ready. In fact, on multiple occasions I’ve had people come up to me after the first few races and ask if everything is OK, if I’m actually planning to race that season... seriously! But I know that spring and summer are exceptionally busy seasons for me with work and supporting Nick in his adventures and I just need a little time to ease into racing before finding my legs. It’s a tactic that has worked out well the past few years. I haven’t had that mid-season slump that so many athletes slog their way through in November and sure, I’m a little off the back to start the year but I seem to come around quickly and then finish things out strong with a solid State and National charge. This year, however is a little different. Not only is the season shorter with Nationals falling mid-December instead of January, but as I mentioned to start, Dani and I are heading to China for a couple UCI races. Nothing like kicking off the season with a bang… right?! With this in mind, I’ve been putting a little more pressure and emphasis on the pre-season training and preparation than usual. There won’t be time to race myself into shape this year. From equipment to physiology to skills, everything has to be sharp. Well, at least not as blunt and dull as usual at this time of year. Thankfully, Dani and I have some great resources around Boulder including some incredible friends who are willing to go hammer themselves around a practice race course for the next few weeks so we can all hit the season running this year. I also made a pretty concerted effort this spring and summer to keep a good number of high-intensity workouts in my weekly schedule. Even with a 350-mile gravel race and 3-day bikepacking race on the schedule this summer, I was doing several days of short intervals each week to keep my head and my legs in the game. I’m already a big believer in always doing some high intensity training no matter how long your event, so it wasn’t a big departure from what I’d normally do to train for these ultra events. But setting out with the goal to keep my peak power up throughout the whole season is lending confidence and giving me a step up as I make the transition from 8+ hour patience races to 45 minute sufferfests. Right now, my favorite workout is the age-old, well-tested and proven Tabatas. Neal Henderson and Grant Holicky of APEX Coaching first introduced me to Tabatas years and years ago when I was racing triathlon and over the years, these short and sweet little efforts have become a staple in my year-round training. Here’s a great overview from FasCat Coaching about what Tabatas are and how to implement them into your training. As the cross season quickly approaches, Tabatas are going to be popping up more and more frequently in the training plan. For me, these repeated short efforts with little rest are the closest thing I get to actual race simulation without actually racing friends or doing practice races. Some ‘cross racers dabble in crits throughout the spring and summer to keep their edge, and I think that’s a great (if not the best) way to stay sharp. But for those of us who can’t commit to road racing or don’t want to anymore, or if you just need a little push to get you into the ‘cross mood this year, give Tabatas a try and you’ll be flying in no time!
BitchnGrit. What does that even mean?
Hint: one of us is not “Bitch” while the other is “Grit”. We are equally both. Kidding… sort of. This past year I read “Grit” by Angela Duckworth fully expecting it to be another "hoo-rah!” “tough it out!” “perseverance poster meme here” self-help book. However, she outlines specific paragons which are not highlighted enough. Let’s take the words “potential” and “talent” as an example. In my opinion, a couple of the most dangerous descriptive attributes of a human. Just as social media plays a dangerous role in artful deception of one’s life. These words inadvertently send a message that other factors, including grit, are not of utmost importance. Goals are hard, let's talk about that. Grit, as Angela puts it, has four psychological assets: interest, practice, purpose, and hope. This includes deliberate work, disappointments, setbacks, and sacrifice. All of which are worth it, as it targets an overarching goal. It’s not pushing through a workout while you’re sick, or running yourself into the ground, but specific practice towards your passion. We both work full-time and have many other responsibilities outside racing, and we want to share our experiences and stories. Most importantly, we will be sharing the voices of other racers and professionals from which we have learned. We have met many incredible people, and are stoked to share their story. We all have a purpose. To us, cycling and racing is an incredible outlet. It is a way to push ourselves, be deliberate, experience, grow, and surround ourselves with the people we love. A passion. We will be traveling a bit of the American UCI circuit in addition to a couple of international UCI events. Inspired by one of our title sponsors, Bitchstix represents our overarching purpose. 100% of the net proceeds of their products are given to domestic abuse and sexual assault prevention programs. As the company puts it: “The reappropriation of the word BITCH subverts the use of the word as a tool of oppression to dominate or shame a person, into the opportunity to empowerment. When language is used to oppress and control someone, we have to be aware, be courages and take a stand. We at Bitchstix want to make the work bitch a “trigger”, a reminder to ourselves that we are powerful and will be an active participant in the oppressive and shaming behavior. You are worth it." Bitchn’ Grit. Complimenting Bichstix, we have a group of partners excited to be a part of our journey and story including Firefly Bicycles, Sound Probiotics, Shimano, Donnelly Cycling, Bobo’s Oat Bars, Topical Edge, and women’s specific brand representation through Tenspeed Hero and Ampersand Coffee Roasters. Meet the team: |
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September 2022
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