It burns.

I really feel last night's 40/20 workout. Or maybe what I'm really feeling is the night of traipsing about in a short dress and Fluevog heels. Audrey and I hit up an open bar event that commenced with donning "costumes" of an arrow-through-the-head for me and a mustache for her. The night ended when we found the errant mustachio stuck to the bottom of her shoe. (She promptly removed said mustache and dropped it in a El street musician's case. The musician thanked her, then asked what it was.) I can also report back definitively that the general public does not notice any difference between compression knee socks and normal knee socks. (Or, possibly, they're so used to seeing me in knee socks that they don't even think about it.)

I'm signed up to race the Chi CX on Sunday, but I think I'll end up doing the Wisconsin race tomorrow, too. The lure of the MWI crowd is just irresistible.

And... I decided this week that what Sasha said about Crisco last fall was not a joke. Pam works for just a lap or two, then wears off. Crisco, that stuff would stick. I need to try it, maybe this weekend on my bike.

Midweek blahs.

Thanks to the suspected stress fracture (if that's even what it is) I've been off running a full week. Last night I got on the bike for some punishing intervals, trying to make up for all those days off in one painful hour. Didn't work. It was cool and damp, though, and my first time on the road bike since that disasterous road race I attempted. I need to start running stairs and hills soon and I can see the clock ticking on the whole injury thing. It doesn't seem to be getting better and I'm running out of patience.

My head's been buried in organizational stuff lately-- team 2010, women's night, all cycling-related but none of it actually cycling. I can't shake my organizer instincts. Women's night has more than 50 RSVP's and I'm starting to feel the pressure of having to tie all the loose ends of the night together, so that it's not some giant mess.

You'll never guess what I'm wearing for Halloween, again, this year.

USGP Louisville: O my goodness!

Host housing is the jam.
We've said it before, and mean it. Thanks to Greg Heck's aunt who hooked us up, we had an actual kitchen wherein to make coffee and Bob's Red Mill cereals and sit around jawin'. It was pretty darn awesome. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Anyway, the weekend started at 10pm when we hit Louisville, watched some show that was like the Deadliest Catch but really was about lobster fishing, and played this hilarious game wherein little capsules with weights in them race down a track (and you bet on it). Don't let them fool you with the black one- it's a ringer!

Race day routine? What routine?!?
Our friends Paolo and Greg were racing at 10:15, along with our friends from My Wife Inc, and we wanted to get there to cheer them on, although Hemme and Ben didn't race till 3. The plan was to shout at them, then leave and get food, and come back around 1 to pre-ride for the 3pm races. We shouted and shouted at the 10am guys, and the course was a mad mudfest. Unfortunately, after that, the only food options were Mexican food, which is relatively not-so-pro for the pre-race eating. Whatever, who said anything about being pro? At noon, we downed the salsarifficness, and were ready to rumble.

Mud off the bike, mud on the girl.
It was going to be one of those days. It was really muddy. Not too sticky, but just enough to get caught on the tubes, enough that the Pam wasn't going to hold it off. I had the joy of doing bike wash several times before the race even started, thanks to pre-rides, and while we had initially thought it was a good day for the start-on-the-b-bike strategy (get that mudded up on the first lap, and if anyone goes down in the start melee, at least it wasn't on the A) but abandoned that as the day warmed and things got a little less insane. MWI's Mike was pitting for Parbo, and Ross came along to assist the two of us.

Ben doesn't even have to try to be a goof.
So... those first two laps, Ben did awesome. I have to say, (1) I'm bad at the first few laps, because while I know riders sort themselves out fine, I still get really excited that Ben can hold it or worried that he won't get up there, and (2) I'm very chatty at this point of a race, and for that, I'm sorry. Anyway. Three laps in or so, three riders get around Ben on the runup right next to the pit. ARGH! I assumed he was coming in, but didn't know what was up. He dismounts at the end of the pit- 40' away from me- and trips over his bike. "I CRUSHED MY NUTS!" Everyone laughed. I ran to him.
"What's wrong?"
"Front wheel." And off he went.
Only, I couldn't find anything wrong with the front wheel. Washed the bike, tightened the hub a little, checked the brakes, and that was that.

Parbo came in too, and I caught for Mike. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing," he replied.

Ben rode really, really strong and finished in 23rd. Way better than expected.

We have a solid race weekend crew.
After the races, about 20 of us went out in search of food. What food we found was slow and crappy, but that group - Mo, Jessica, Ross, Paul, and Mike of MWI, Betty and Whitney, Lyne of podiuminsight.com, plus this weekend Paolo, Greg, and Hemme- what a riot. I really, really appreciate having a crew this year with so many women and even with other pitting mechanics. It's so much fun! Each weekend we leave just looking forward to the next, knowing the gang will all be there, traveling circus style.

The MWI guys are also very, very meticulous about washing their bikes, and luckily it rubbed off this weekend. I detailed Ben's bikes, and he lined up Sunday morning with the cleanest bikes of the season. (Honestly, it made it easier to give him the pro treatment when he had ridden so well and had such a great attitude.)

And Saturday night, we caught a family wedding, to boot.

Sunday Ben had the ride of his life, until it ended, but it was still good.
Sunday was more of the same, though we had a solid breakfast before the 10:15 races, and chowed on Bob's Red Mill through the day. I spent much of the morning washing, tuning, and rewashing the bikes, carrying buckets of water around, doing a good enough job that there was no work for me in the pit during the race. Ben had a crappy call-up and we weren't expecting much after yesterday's ride, but something clicked. After three laps, he was in a group with some fast guys, and he was holding steady. For three-four laps he pulled those guys around, sitting in 18th. WOW! 18th! He popped on the last lap, though, and just before the pit I watched 5 guys ride around him like he was standing still. No worries, though, he ended up being the last guy on the course- last guy not lapped- and just sort of limped in to finish. He took a bike change on the last lap, something we should do more often, so that I could wash the A bike while he finished. Man, had that race been one less lap, or had the leader come around his group, he would have been in the top 20. But, there's always next time...

A stop at the New Albanian with the Chi crew and we were on our way for the long drive home. Looking forward to some weeks at home, though a little sad to miss USGP NJ. Next trip is to Jingle Cross.

Dirt, then donuts.

two days of all-day no interwebs work training. I'll tell you about usgp later, including an exciting depantsing episode.

Race across... the bar.

A big group of us went to see Race Across the Sky: Soupy, Sophia, Amy, Paul-Brian, Jen, Ben, and I, along with our friends the Bonebellers. Unfortunately, the movie theatre couldn't get the durn feed to work, so instead of seeing bikes race, we got refunds, free passes, and a rainy ride to the bar.

We drank alot.

Ben and I have a lot to drink about lately. His last day at the office is today.

Last night I finally went to the doctor about my heel. While she couldn't get it to show up on an xray, she believes it's a stress fracture. 2 weeks no running- she even said I should take the bus instead of walking to work, ha!- and if it doesn't get better, an MRI to actually see where it is and what's up. I had that dreadful "what do I do now?" feeling. I'm no doubt going to gain 2398743 pounds, and poor Molly will be a mess without that exercise. *sigh*

A little QT with A & B.

Ben (who took that photo) came home from Toronto with a to-do list for me... it was a little overwhelming. The hubs are all maladjusted, one wheel had a broken spoke, the cockpits had slipped out of where they should be, the B bike was still not shifting right, the brakes had different feels between the two bikes, the list goes on... it made me really cranky.

With a little help from Marcus, though, we had a spoke and some glue and sorted out the B bike's shifting issues. I spent last night peeling back the tire, replacing the spoke, working on the hubs, fixing the cockpits, and generally trying to clean up the little things that were slowly becoming big things. I went to bed satisfied, I woke up feeling like I had accomplished a fair lot.

Once we get our truing stand in action, this will all be better.

I set out for a run this morning wherein everything fell apart, literally, from my sports bra to my hair tie. I even managed to step on my mp3 player. It was just completely random. Either way, stuck it out for what was a slow 5, enjoying this cool weather.

I'm rediscovering something I experienced last fall: the best part about off-season running is coming in a little chilled and taking a long, hot shower. Man, I love that feeling.

"race" report: Fun times in Carpentersville.

(photo: Brian Morrissey) Having not been on my bike (which, you'll recall, is a MTB and not a CX bike) since our Hopkins Park race, I wasn't expecting much. I had pre-registered for the cx race in haste after discovering I was missing the ride to Toronto-- and then I was crestfallen when my teammate Jen reminded me there were two trail races the same day. YARGH. I would have far rather raced competitively on trail (in shape or not) than puttered around a park on the heaviest bike in my field. Oh, well, such is NO REFUNDS of bike reg.

Erica and I left the city around 9:30am and got to the venue pretty early. I had baked peanut butter cookies and offered broken-off pieces as handups-- and in the 3's, Meshberg and Paolo actually took them. Nice. Then it was time for us to race, and so we did.

I had a nice new pair of kneesocks on, so I was feeling pretty good, whether or not the kit was WAY tighter than it had been in Chewammie. The course was pretty twisty-turny and I knew from last year that I had a chance for a nice mid-pack finish. When the race started, I bolted. I had a darn good start, really. I blame the grip shifts, allowing me to jump all the way down the cassette in one easy turn. Thanks, SRAM!

For a good half lap, it was like I was in a real race, with a real pack! The women near me were stronger than me but didn't corner well. Plus, since we were cornering around trees that had roots sticking out at the bottom, I could take it tighter on my fat tires than those CX tires could handle. I took some awesome lines and made some pretty cool moves, shouldering my way through aggressively. It was like trying to pass on singletrack, and I finally feel like I'm good at it! At one point, I'm pretty sure I sunk my handlebar into Robin's butt. Sorry about that, such are flat bars! By the end of lap one, it was me, Tamara from XXX, and Tammi from Pony Shop.

Tamara came around me in lap 2 on a grassy section where I just didn't have the power. Tammi pushed me for a while, and I was sure I could hold her, then she came around me. I stayed on her wheel until the sand pit, which had a 180 turn in it. For our four lap race, I rode it cleanly three of the laps! On lap three though, the sand didn't let me make the turn and I biffed it. Tammi pulled away, and I just didn't have it in me to catch up. I'd get close in the turny-slow stuff, but she was just stronger. So that was that...

On the last lap I took a cookie handup. And I inhaled it. I spent the entire afternoon coughing up cookie crumbs. That hurt.

Anyway, I did ok. 14 of 23. Had a great time shouting for teammates and running around in circles all afternoon. Woot for fall.

Just one of those nights

I'll spare you the long-day-time-change-work-hell. Just the good stuff. Because, naturally, I was in bed by 9pm. I had to be. And then, I was totally awake.

I thought a bird was hitting my window... or maybe a coworker who remembered that I said I was in a room open to the terrace. It hit the window. And again. And again. I looked out the window and couldn't see anything. Then I remembered. Disney. The nightly show. It was loud. I laughed. Who would have thought?

Disney wake up call or none, I was wide awake by 4:30am, which means my internal alarm clock is still working perfectly for my usual 6:30am Central day. Not to screw with that, I jumped up and suited up for a run. Stopped by the front desk to get tips on routing, and scribbled the proposed route around disney on my hand. Set out in the damp, cool darkness.

I got to the Disneyland entrance, and it was open. Ran to where the parks met, still open. Turned, and the fence... open. I didn't know why, but I turned my music up, and just ran in. Ran and ran. Two or three workers tried to say something to me. I just waved at them and kept running. It was the best way to see the place. Or really, the only good way to.

Work for me, though, started by 6:15am. And now, I'm live from the bar at the John Wayne airport. I'm sad I missed Ben this weekend. But someone's got to make the donuts.

Insert complaint about making the donuts... here.

I have a job, which I shouldn't complain about, because it's better than none. Sometimes my job is awesome. But sometimes it sucks. When it sucks, I get by telling myself that "someone has to make the donuts." Donuts, as in, things that pay bills. Anyway, this week, the plan was: Off Monday (holiday), make the donuts in my office Tue-Thu, off Fri (go to Toronto), enjoy awesomeness in Toronto all weekend.

Because the powers-that-be demanded different donuts be made, the plan altered to: Deal with calls half the day Monday, work Tue-Wed in Chi, work Thu-Fri in LA, get home to Chi at midnight on Friday, and work all day Sat in Chi. Oh! And did I mention that one of my donut-making endeavors, being based in California, requires me to be available by phone until 8pm most days, thank you time change? Yeah, that donut has freaking pink sprinkles on it.

Anyway, that schedule leaves me in Chicago on Sunday with nothing to do... but race CX.
So if you see me and my little mountain bike going around a park all "do dee do dee do" throw me a beer. I'm feeling kind of buried in donut making lately.

Cinci CX: We brought the awesome.

Ben and I rolled into Cinci past riders caked, covered, and otherwise made to look sasquatch-like with mud hanging off of them. It was raining off and on. We were not in a very good mood. We recognized Mike and Jessica of the My Wife Inc crew from the Madison weekend and said hi, they invited us to share their Pink Tent of Doom with attached restroom facilities. It was an awesome offer, since there was nowhere else out of the rain, and we were happy to join in. We had no idea what shenanigans would ensue over the weekend, but by the time we walked out of the Cancun "burrito joint" Sunday night, we were in love. Ya know, that cx-fueled 'those people are so darn much fun' love.

Friday Was a Mudder.
I'm not one to be down on promoters for much, but hot damn, the set up for the pit on Friday was woefully inadequate. Sure, you couldn't plan that it was going to rain, but you might have surmised that rain was a possibility, and UCI regs say two pressure washers for the pit, not one droopy hose with crappy nozzle that sort of cries out a trickle of water that takes 5 minutes to fill a bucket (and that you have to cross the course to get to). Oh, and it was a wrong-side-pit, which I guess Cross Vegas had too, but it's still annoying. It was such a bad setup that the Kona guys used a freaking handtruck to wheel in several huge plastic tanks of water, a pressure washer, and the requisite extension cord. Serious.

So it was a mudfest. Luckily the mud wasn't too sticky and most riders took just 3-4 bike changes in the whole race, with the exception of Parbo, who worked his My Wife Inc volunteers to death. Ben came in for a bike about 3 laps in, and we did the usual perfect-handup-with-kiss, and I was happy to see that the bike he handed me was just dirty but still totally tuned and ready to roll. I waited in the "wash" line, where a cyclocrossworld.com dude had taken over as SprayMaster to keep folks from detailing their bikes while the line grew. Back to the line, Ben comes through.
"Don't give this bike back to me." The rear wheel (which wasn't perfect earlier but certainly wasn't like this) had developed a serious hop in it, it was rubbing the brakes, and really wasn't going to get fixed quickly by my muddy hands in the rain in the pit. I opened the brakes up, it was ready to go, but he wasn't going to take it anyway.

I was trying to encourage him just before he was lapped, and he shouted LOUD back at me to leave him alone. It was unanimously decided in the pit that there is no ice cream for whiny bitches. (Ben thus got no ice cream on Friday.)

So, I did all of three bike washes, and that was the day. After the race we drank in the PeePuddle and then rolled to the kind of party that only happens in CX season... a local trail racer (who doesn't even race cross!) set up a party with build-your-own-burritos and beer. So awesome. We had a good time plotting the Half Wife Cramhole challenge and drinking Burger beer- actually, there was an umlaut over the u, which makes it German, I guess.

Then, several beers later, I attempted to use Ben's bike as a truing stand while I struggled with that wheel. I made it passable and functional, but it'll need work once we hit home.

Then we flew to Atlanta.
It was Ben's Cousin's wedding, and it was awesome. We enjoyed some quality time with the family, and there was pole dancing, and we missed the Saturday race, where Chris, Zach, and Dave handed up Half Acre Beers and lawn darts (!) to the pros. Eep.

Sunday was a really good day.
We were up in Atlanta at 6am to make the flight back to Cinci (well, Dayton, actually). We rolled straight to the race after a Big Boy breakfast. There were little spots of mud but nothing really to speak of, and it was going to be a boring day in the pit. I rode down the pavement to the start on the B-bike (aka Race Day Transit) and noticed there's some far worse fork shudder going on this season. Need to do something about that one... did some playing around and it's a little better.

Anywho. Podium Insight's Lyne was telling me about my teammates' beer and lawn dart handups from the previous day and I was sure more awesomeness was coming. Chris confirmed their plan for wine and cheese handups. I, however, got to miss that fun but instead join Betty and my My Wife Inc buddies doing nothing in the pit. Oh, so much nothing! Just shouting. Dirty, dirty, sexy shouting. But that was all. The leaders traded bikes once or twice, but that's all that happened.

Naturally we weren't done with the awesome just because the race was over. We all headed out to a local burrito joint and destroyed some bad, slow Mexican food and giggled at a superfan. I can't wait till Louisville, where we get to see those MWI folks again. Seriously awesome.

square

Bottle opener? Check. Cowbell? Check. Dragons? Possibly. A bunch of other crap that we'll never need because we built 'em to last? Hells to the yeah.

See ya in Cinci.

Hello Half Acre.

The storefront of the new Half Acre brewery opened yesterday, so not to miss the first day, Ben and I took the trek to the Northerly parts to check it out. I was so excited (and still am!) for them. It's a beautiful space and they're selling some delicious beers. They really feel like a family, and Half Acre Cycling is part of their extended family, as is all of the Chicagoland community, and it's all so welcoming and warm and happy. Expect great things. Including the love.

We've reached that painful week where the sun wakes up after we do, making our bed a little more magnetic, delaying the morning run those five or ten precious minutes and shaving a mile off the distance in exchange for for a little more time with Ben and Molly and warm covers. I've been running just 5k every morning, and off-gizmo, so I don't even know my pace. They're runs for Molly, not for me. But this weather is perfect for the job, and I don't seem to mind much.

Race report: DeKalb.

First and foremost: Happy Belated Birthday to AUDREY! Her b-day was race day this year, which sucks, because we were all so scattered and tired that she didn't get the party she deserves. Hearts and hugs and great apologies.

(Photo: Mike Campbell) I'm such a faker. I have no idea why I bother even lining up for this stuff. Ya, it's fun. But I had ruined any chance of success when the previous night's shenanigans rolled over into the morning...

You see, Saturday we went to this Bridgeport Oktoberfest that had 60+ kinds of micro- and home-brewed beers. I really, really enjoyed tasting the creativity of people who didn't have to worry about selling beer, it was awesome. But there was just so much of it... anyway, it resulted in some pretty pro moves, and a lifetime-first cake-in-the-face for me. German Chocolate, how appropriate. Too bad 90% of the free food was non-veg. That could have saved the day.

Then it was to Dan & Lisa's, more drinking, Daisy Cutter from a tap. Mmmmm.

I woke up at 5:00am when I had to start getting ready for the race. Nabbed one of the rice krispy treats I had made for the bake sale and called it breakfast, sucked down a few bottles of GuBrew and Erica picked me up and we were on our way. Got there, set up the bake sale, got the coffee brewing, helped finish off course set-up, and the day started to fly by.

I lined up for the race knowing I couldn't really get much done. It was totally rad, though, lining up with 3 teammates- 4 HAC women, all in a row!- and feeling like it wasn't just me out there was really, really awesome. From the start, though, I couldn't push it or the nausea would come back and punch me in the face. So, I just kind of rode along. The course wasn't well suited to me or my MTB- not very technical, pretty flat, few interesting turns. I rode in a group for a lap or two, then I didn't. By lap three, I couldn't see the woman in front of me or the woman behind me.

Lap two, though, one of the Pony Shop people shouted to the girl behind me, "Pass her! Pass a Popper!" Ha.
"That's not happening," I shouted back. And laid down a little effort to keep her behind me, which is the way it stayed. Too bad that effort was a little reminder of the other kind of Half Acre love- the beer kind- and it really, really kicked me in the teeth. Yargh. Then just after the finish, teammate Jason Henry from the SS race was coming up on me. I hit the brakes about 50' from the finish to let him catch up. I planned to hold hands and smile and chat across the line with him- he wasn't even in my race- but someone shouted SPRINT FINISH!!! I shifted and hit it hard enough to lift up my front wheel. It was close, but I think he got me in the end by like 1". Fun.

So, I think I was 25th of 27. Tee hee! I said I was in CX for the beer, and I guess I really meant it.

I enjoy beer.

Newsflash, right? Ha.
Last night, my friend Jill from college and I met at The Trappist, a completely unexpected Belgian-themed bar in downtown Oakland. Yeah, really! Brick walls, dim lights, tin ceiling, awesome beer list, like 24 Belgians on tap... so good. Lately I've had a soft spot for sour beers, and the bartender explained that was generally a feature of Flemish brews. He recommended this Ichtegem Grand Cru. It ruled.

It's been a long few weeks though, with New Glarus and Las Vegas and more New Glarus and now this. And my hotel has a free happy hour. My liver isn't loving me, but with the cooler weather, I've been running fast anyway. Some day I'll take a pause to dry up, but life's short. I'm not going to miss one opportunity for deliciousness.