TransRockies Challenge VIII

TransRockies Challenge VIII

2^nd Erika Krumpelman & Shannon Holden, Open Women

Cascade Creampuff: 100 Miles of Fun

By Erika Krumpelman
Hayden, Idaho

A 100 mile race on a mountain bike with 18,000 feet of climbing sounds like a great idea in April. I had never even ridden 100 miles on my mountain bike, never mind raced it, but July is ages away, right??? A friend of ours has been telling us for a year how much fun this race is, so my husband and I signed up and we started doing long training rides as often as possible.

The week of the race finally arrived. The nerves began three days early. I kept questioning myself: Was I ready? Did I do enough long rides? Can I get my nutrition right? Will I have a mechanical problem? Will I make the time cut or will I get pulled from the race? As we drove the 9 hours to Oakridge, Oregon, our friend who did the race last year talked incessantly about the course—every detail, how difficult it was, how much it hurt, how last year he swore he would never do it again, blah blah blah!! The trips to the bathroom increased.

Race day finally arrived. The alarm clock went off at 3:30 AM. Breakfast was at 4:00 and start time was 5:00 AM—Uggg. Isn’t eating at 4:00 AM actually harmful for one’s health? They had to delay the start until a bit of light dawned.

Once we started rolling, the nerves went away and I had a great time! I have never raced in such a fun, positive atmosphere! Because the race is so long, I was able to ride with a few men on the long climbs, visiting and learning about their lives. If another racer came up behind me on a descent and I asked if he wanted by, he would casually reply, “Sure, whenever there is time, no hurry.” The race was very well supported, marked, and organized. Arrows were a clear indication of coming “attractions”.
One arrow=Be on your toes. Two arrows= You could get injured. Three arrows=you could die!! I remembered to drink, ate whatever sounded good at the aid stations, and just kept pedaling. The only drawback—non-stop rain! I don’t do a lot of racing in the mud, so I was probably overly cautious on the descents, but crashing out of the race didn’t sound like fun.

When I stopped at an aid station about 11 hours into the race, our friend found me and tried to get me to come sit with him by the fire. Apparently I looked like death that needed to be warmed over, but I was afraid if I stopped, I would never get back on my bike. I kept going and in the end, I finished in 13 hours, but still smiling! Surprisingly, the thought of quitting never crossed my mind.

I was happy to find out that I was third in my age group and 5th overall. Considering the competition, I was thrilled! A record number of women started–32–but only about half finished before the time cut. The prize—a clock! Thank you to Stan’s for their light, tough, wheels that made climbing easier and prevented flats, Zeal for their cute pink glasses that kept the mud out of my eyes, and Oregon Velo for the pics.

Beth is a Rock Star

By Beth Hamon
Portland Oregon

Mood: Glad it’s over – phew!

I arrived at 4:30 to do an easy-paced pre-ride. The moto track portion had been laid out insanely; Organizers decided to throw the kitchen sink into the course design for the closing night of the series and it showed: crazy transitions at odd angles, with a lateral drop-down off a grassy strip between two parts of the track onto the next section of moto track, and across that onto some gravel and back onto the moto track. The single-track sections through the trees were equally intense: several spots where the course zigzagged wildly back and forth so as to force riders to thread the needle between two closely-space trees.

To my shock and amazement, once I got the hang of it most of these posed no problem. During the pre-ride there was one particularly SICK tree-crossing where, as you passed between the two trees, you also had to negotiate a very deep, badger-sized hole; the only way to avoid getting your front wheel stuck in the hole and doing an endo was to find a narrow line around either side of the hole — while not hitting either tree. VERY hard! And guess what? I DID it. Let me tell you that there is nothing to boost your confidence like nailing hard, technical stuff on your bike. The single-track portion of the course was actually LOTS of fun.

Most Surreal Moment Of The Night: minutes before I had to go line up for my race, a couple of professional salsa dancers from Caracas, Venezuela put on an amazing dance exhibition in the center lot. Riders milled around for a little while to watch them perform; several rode right past them, either oblivious, or staring, incredulous. I giggled as I watched a muscular Cat 1 rider roll by, stare for a moment at the dancers, and mouth the words, “what the f**k?!”

Finally it was time to race. The Cat 3 Womens’ field was quite large tonight — no surprise as it was easily ten degrees cooler than last week, when most fields were much smaller than usual — and very friendly and chatty. The start lap was long and tough, with the surface of the moto track mostly large chunks of sun-hardened dirt that made traction difficult and bike-handling worse. I somehow managed to stay upright as we took the first corner, and to my surprise and joy I was NOT the last one into the turn! (I got passed by everyone by the time we’d left the moto track, but whatever.) I made it through the grassy drop-down — terrifying, but somehow I stayed upright, even though my rear had a frightening fish-taily feeling as I dropped.

The only real bummer on the first lap was when I began riding the long rhythm section of rollers in the center of the moto track; I topped the first roller too fast, caught a little air and crashed when my front wheel landed first. I did a neat little part-splat, part-shoulder-roll; immediately got up to drag my bike out of the way of whomever was behind me; got on, and kept riding. I would feel the scrapes on my arm and leg later. For the time being the adrenaline was doing its job and keeping me mostly numb to the pain.

Even though I’d geared down for tonight’s race, putting on a larger cog at work, I still could not work up the momentum I needed to top most of the steepest berms on the moto track without getting off and running or walking up. I wasn’t worried about walking up, as I’d set a goal for myself of finishing three laps by any means possible; even crawling was a viable option. Still, the moto section took a toll on me. As we entered the single-track part of the course I was able to breathe a little bit. I could see Liz and Itai standing near the baby-whoops, waiting for me to come around. I noticed with an odd disappointment that someone had filled in the badger-hole (for safety, presumably), and now it was just a little dip in the track. My lungs burned from the heat and dust and exertion; on a short straightaway here and there I managed to sip some water on the fly but it was never enough to really help. I made it through the baby-whoops, heard Liz and Itai both yell my name, and perked up; someone was here rooting for ME and boy did that feel nice. I blew through the singletrack section, getting hung up once as I tried to thread between two trees and again when I had to do a run-up to the back bleachers behind the moto track. I panted my way back onto the moto course for another lap.

I made it through the moto section a second time — the drop-down onto the grass was still JUST as scary, and the crunchy, chunky terrain just as hard to negotiate — and gasped my way back into the singletrack again. The second time I left the singletrack, I powered up the path to the back bleachers, not wanting to do another run-up and this time having no geared bike in front of me to kill my momentum. YESSS!

By the time I left the singletrack section I could hear the bell ringing the final lap for the leaders. I huffed and puffed my way onto the center rhythm section (where I’d crashed the first time), and remembered to watch my speed this time. But as I topped the first berm, my left calf seized up — CRAMP! OUCH! — and I nearly fell off my bike again from the pain. A course marshal down on the ground asked if I was okay. I yelled back, “yeah, it’s just a cramp.” He yelled back at me to stretch it and ride it out if I could. I got on my bike, tentatively stretched the calf, winced in pain and resumed riding. I made it through the rhythm section, hit the banked turn and gritted my teeth as the pain returned.

Coming out of the banked turn I could see them waving the checkered flag at the finish. I could also see the Singlespeed/Cat 2 field anxious for the last Cat 3 riders to finish so they could start. I looked ahead of me to one more set of rollers and another couple of hard banked turns before I’d have to top the final berm and roll to the finish. I was most of the way through a third lap. And then, as I headed into the last set of rollers, my calf screamed. And I screamed. Out loud. People stared as I nearly fell over from the pain. And that’s when I knew I could not ride anymore. I pulled off after the second roller and hobbled off the course. I haven’t seen results yet but I’m sure I won’t get credit for a third lap. I MAY even get DNF’d. No matter. I rode nearly all of it and I’m happy that I pushed myself.

UPDATE: Checking results, I found out I’d been given credit for three laps. Not sure how they did the math but I am STOKED! Yippee!

After the cold chicken dinner, a ton of water and some beer, the crazy team relay and the raffle and the podium ceremonies, when I finally got home at 10:45 pm, she told me how proud of me she was. “You’re a rock star,” she told me over and over. “You did something really amazing and you looked so strong out there!” Liz was proud of me for trying for a third lap. I have to admit that I’m a little proud of me, too.

This morning I am a little stiff and sore where I fell. The scrapes are not so bad, except the two biggest ones on my forearm and elbow. I’m not too sad about crashing; it was my first crash in four races and the law of averages dictated that sooner or later I’d have to have the experience. What I’m proud of is that I got back up quickly and kept going. That felt good.

I am nervous about cyclocross. Mostly nervous about learning to mount and dismount on the fly. Extending the pins in my pedals and switching to my touring shoes seemed okay; I had a stiffer show but with still plenty of grip, and I didn’t slip off my pedals once. plus, the extra traction on the soles helped me do the run-ups without feeling like I was going to slide back down the berms. But there are free clinics on Wednesday nights at Alpenrose and I hope to make at least three of them before ‘cross season starts in October.

I am really, really glad I gave this a go! I’d like to come back and do it next year, and hopefully do more of the races in the series if possible.

Sticks in My Eyes

By Marian Jamison
Reno, Nevada

This morning I’m so freakin’ sore I didn’t even want to get out of bed. Oddly enough it’s not from racing Nevada City, but from cross training yesterday, as this is my official Week Off the Bike, per coach’s orders. Actually I just got called out on Twitter for running during my rest week – I thought that was okay!!! But I guess I won’t be running either. Jeez, what am I going to do with myself for the rest of the week?!

So anyway, back to Nevada City. This weekend was the culmination of 3 1/2 months of racing, with only one non-race weekend in the mix. Needless to say it was starting to wear on me. Prior to the Nevada City race I’d planned on racing the Tour de Nez – Nevada City is on Sunday, TdN Thurs-Sat. Well, I raced on Thursday, up against Tibco, SugarCRM, Touchstone, VAC, Metromint . . . and I got dropped about 15 minutes in. Decided to just take it easy, not race on Friday and Saturday, and if I decided to race Nevada City just do it as a no-pressure fun thing. Right, fun. Wee.

Seriously, tho, I did have fun, in a sticks-in-my-eyes sort of way. I was hanging pretty well for the first couple laps, caught back up to a pretty fast group, and true to form, immediately went to the front of the group and gunned it. Well, those fast girls in my group decided that was a good time to attack, so off the back I came, along with another girl who I know to be a cat 3 like me. We rode together for a while, then she dropped me. I was pretty hurting for the last couple laps, and one girl caught me with 1 to go. That motivated me to pick up the pace, but she pipped me at the line. Bummer. So I came in mid-pack, and I’m pretty sure I was the 3rd cat 3. I think if I’d planned and tapered a little more I might have actually done pretty darn good, actually. As it is I’m just happy to have gotten out there.

Anyway, it was lotsa fun, good crowd, tons of people out there who seemed to know my name cheering for me! That’s always fun. Hernando was there every lap in his Vanderkitten jersey offering words of advice and that I actually always find remarkably encouraging. We stuck around and watched the Lance-Circus, which was actually pretty cool. I heard that they had 30,000 spectators in Nevada City that day! And also that the town ran out of beer.

Quieting the Butterflies at U.S. Nationals

By Soni Andreini Poulsen
On the Back of the Tandem, California

Why do I get so nervous before races?

My stomach is such a vat of acid you’d think it’d digest anything instantly. Instead it keeps urping up my breakfast for hours. And I need a revolving door on the porta potty.

The more the race matters to me, the worse it is. So the morning of our Tandem Time Trial at Masters Nationals was about as bad as it gets.

So I go through my tools for dealing with this.

1. Concentrate on pre-race routine. Well, the 2 hour delay in our start time did that one in.

2. Breathing and relaxation exercises. Bubble, churn, urp.

3. Fear busting exercise: remind myself that fear is only a signal that I am taking a risk and challenging myself. I recognized that and congratulated myself on not being controlled by my fear. Time for a bathroom trip.

Ok, now I’m getting a little upset at myself and a little worried. I’d already seen with the rides I’d been doing in Kentucky that my heart rate was tending to run high. I didn’t have any extra beats for nerves.

What am I afraid of? That all the obstacles we’d overcome to get there would be for nothing. Bronchitis, sinusitis, neuromas, asthma, rear wheel problems, motivation problems, rental house swindlers, 21 rear-end mosquito bites, nebraska, and 2000 miles. That all the endless intervals would be for nothing. That we’d fail and let down ourselves and everyone who had helped us get there. And if you are reading this, you helped me get there. Which of you hasn’t held my hand or kicked me in the butt in the last 4 years? Without you I’d never had the confidence to call myself an athlete.

But at the very same instant I realized that I was afraid that we wouldn’t be successful, I rejected that thought. We were already successful. We had already overcome the obstacles. And I had no doubt that we were going to race as hard as we could. And all that meant that no matter what the outcome of the race, that we would be successful. And in accepting that as truth, I felt the storm in my stomach settle down.

For me, that was (almost) as big an accomplishment as winning a National Championship.

San Diego Bellas Rock Barb’s Half Ironman

For those of you who haven’t heard the news, the San Diego Bellas kicked some major booty at Barb’s race last weekend!

BJ overcame swim nerves to have a fantastic first Half Ironman!  After the race she looked fresh as a daisy as she was corralling her kids (who she had been camping with in the days leading up to the race).  Truly a SUPERMOM!

Heather flew through her first Aquabike.  Although she had suffered from a recent back injury, Heather was on her game, and finished the race strong and in control, reminding us why
Chris calls her a “Bond Girl”.

Jackie took over 40 minutes off her time from last year. Considering this is Jackie’s THIRD half Ironman in a year, I think this grandma of two officially qualifies as a “long course specialist”.

Lynn S. rocked her first HIM with a 9th place finish!!!  She looked calm and in control throughout the race, and glided across the finish line like a gazelle.

Pey-Lih took 3rd in her age group for the Aquabike.  She is one fast chick!  I guess it runs in the family- her husband Ben also podiumed!

Shannon SPUN up the infamous Chalk Hill.  When she got to the top, she said “Really?  Was that it?”  She went on to finish her first half Ironman with a strong run.  Yay Shannon!

And last but not least…

Terri, who is training for her first full Ironman in November, took FIRST place in her age group!  And at this race, first place gets you a bottle of wine and a really cool necklace.  Way to go!

Thanks to Cindy O’Grady, who seemed to be everywhere at once, cheering on the Bellas.  Next year, we’re getting you out on that course =)

Congratulations to everyone who participated!  

A Box of Chocolates: Raja Q’s for Worlds

By Raja Lahti-McMahon
San Diego, California

It’s been a tough year for me. After all, it is already the end of July and I feel like all I’ve done this year is work… cough. My physician, a sports med doc, a pulmonologist, now an allergist, and perhaps an ENT later… all I know is that my lungs are healthy and my sinuses are less than ideal. Why? who knows, check’s in the mail.

So when I got clearance from the doc to work out again mid July, I felt like someone had released me from shackles. Like my dog Vela, when you take her off the leash… she goes crazy. Spins and whirls, wiggles and gyrates. It’s pretty cool to imagine yourself so flexible your butt can touch your head. I imagine I would break if I tried, so I’ll live vicariously through our not-so-little bounding joy of canine companion.

With 10 solid days of workouts, 3 swims, 3 trips to Gino (ART physical therapy) to work on a strained right hammy, Dave & I packed up for a fast & furious weekend. Friday started with an early 2 hr ride before work and ended with dinner with 25 of my Velo Bella teammates and host Alex Burgress. Lessons on what it means to be a Bella, and how the cross girls really do flair! Y’all are nuts! Good thing us tri girls are… errr… sane.

Saturday morning just dreamy. Sleek and slippery, that new Ellsworth CoEfficient stared at me and I couldn’t help the drool. Sandra restrained herself, the thoughts of perhaps the first person to lick the bike would be able to claim it as their own. Then hunger struck and Tony cooked up a fabulous BBQ. To think all this time I’ve been riding Highland Valley… my precious CoEfficient has been sooo close.

DeeAnn, Amy, Vicky & myself take off for Newport Beach to check in for the Pacific Coast Triathlon, host of the USA Triathlon Sprint National Championships. This was the Hail-Mary pass to qualify for Worlds. I convinced Dave to go for a little swim, play in the surf a little since I hadn’t yet been able to due to sinus infections. We walked down the steep bank and thought it best to check in with the lifeguard first. Surf had been labeled “hazardous” for the last couple of days and just around the corner at The Wedge, a body surfer was killed under the crushing surf.

“Nobody’s getting in the water today, surf is too dangerous here” said the lifeguard. Ok, no swimmy for me. Tomorrow? We’d have to wait to find out in the morning. If we do swim with this surf…. I think I’m going to pull out the water wings. Dave & I take off and drive to a friend’s for the night.

Later that night, reports were flying of 25′ surf at the wedge earlier in the day.

Sunday morning arrived waaaay to early. I do have to remind myself at 4:30AM that I paid money to do this.

I rack my bike and realize I’ve forgotten my chip in the car. Oh goodness, everyday racing is a learning experience! I just back on the bike and wiz off back to the car for both my chip & swim cap. Ugg. Lucky for me, the girls in my wave were nice enough to save the rack spot for me. Then.. the bullhorn. Swim is cancelled, and we will instead run down the length of the beach, up the steep bluff walkway and to T1. Although I had not yet done a duathlon before, I was quite delighted not to have to challenge mother nature and her washing-machine wrath of 10′ surf.

Off we go, running through the sand. I was smart enough to bring 2 pairs of running shoes (race flats & a dry pair for after) and chose to wear my training shoes for the short sand run and leave my race flats sand-free for the post bike 3 mile run.

Before you knew it, we were off on the bike. My mounts & dismounts blow. Gotta work on those.

The course was a short 13 mile rolling 2 lap course. I tried to hit the hills hard to make up for a soon-to-be sorry run. I just didn’t really think about the lack of high-intensity training, and at the top of every hill I would adorne myself with a little extra “flair”. Yeah, it was going to be one of those days. Not much was going to stay down. I clocked at 35 n’change bike for the 2nd fastest in my age group. The run was brutal. I’m not sure there’s a race where the run isn’t brutal. Just the nature of the beast. Lesley’s Scottish voice chased me the entire run, “come on Rrrraa’ya!” Out, around and down to the sand… again. I hate sand, but geeze it looks good in the backdrop of a photo. Just when you’re done running in the sand, you have to haul your poor lactic legs up the bluff. I probably could have walked up faster… but alas, I wouldn’t have been able to pick up running again if I did. I felt like I was dragging a bowling ball and just throwing myself up the hill. I finish unchallenged and promptly drown myself in water.

I catch Marisa, Amy, Neily and DeeAnn finishing. They all looked better that I felt. My poor husband has now been finished for quite some time, has already changed and looks like he just jumped out of the shower. Not to mention he’s starving. God knows, keep the man fed!

Amy & I walk over to the results – My results were posted, 5th in the division. Top 12 qualifiy for Worlds! I’m stunned. I wasn’t supposed to qualify that easily. Turns out, we all qualified!

I will accept the invite to ITU Age Group Sprint World Championships in Australia Sept 13th. If I never qualify again, I would regret turning down the opportunity. So as retarted as it is to spend a rediculous amount of money to fly for 24 hrs to the other side of the world for a race that will maybe last an hour that you have no business racing (for lack of any quality training), it it an opportunity that may be once-in-a-lifetime. Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to Australia I go!

In the twisted words of Hollywood, Triathlon is “like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.”

Special thanks to those around me who have kept my head above water at times I felt like I was drowning: Coach Peter Clode, Confindant Neily Mathias, Lesley “The Inspirer” Paterson, Sports Med Doc John Martinez, Gino “The Thumb” Cinco, and of course, my hubby Dave, who was pretty sure I was going to drop dead from a chronic cough.

2009 Mountain State Cup

2009 Mountain State Cup

2^nd Kimber Gabryszak, Open Women

Portland Mountain Bike Short Track Series #7, OR

Portland Mountain Bike Short Track Series #7, OR

23rd, Beth Hamon, Cat 3 Women 19+

Timpani Criterium, CA

Timpani Criterium, CA

9th, Denise Ramirez, Women 4
31st, Brittany Growdon, Women 4

« Previous Page