There’s something about races in your backyard that gets you more excited than biting into the marshmallow you just roasted to a crisp-golden brown with a color variation tolerance of 0.1 and finding that the inside came out perfectly, oozingly, melted. Maybe it’s not having to drive your bike or the fact that you’ll probably see some familiar faces. Okay, who am I kidding, it’s because you could ride the course blindfolded and have fooled yourself into thinking this gives you some superhuman advantage. For someone with talent. it may actually help. For a rookie, it’s mere delusion. Read the rest of this entry »
While we’re on the topic of acronyms that begin with “D,” why not relive my DFL from last year (nevermind that I didn’t know what it stood for until a few months ago).
Event: The Burn Mountain Bike Time Trial at Wellington Lake, Bailey, CO
Course: 14 miles through the Buffalo Creek trail system – mix of forest road and singletrack
Weather: 80′s at the start, 30 below zero at the finish (thunderclouds, wind and rain rolled in to turn my sweaty jersey into an ice pack)
Goals for the event: Finish the race without getting lost
No expectations. I’m making this my new mantra, for without any expectations, my ego gets a little less bruised when I lose. Just a little less. I made the decision to enter The Burn just a few days before the race and after having 2 weeks of vacation (read: sitting on my ass). I didn’t know the course, I’ve never done a time trial, and I would end up going first in my category. Arriving with no expectations was definitely more relaxing. A lot nicer than feeling like you’re going to hurl from nervousness. Read the rest of this entry »
Have you ever found yourself racing along in about 6th place then suddenly crossing the line in 1st without having passed anybody? No? Well I’ll fill you in on a secret – it’s not good. In fact, it downright sucks. When I found myself in this sorry predicament at the Intermountain Cup Stan Crane Memorial Race on Monday, the tears streaming down my face were not from the joy of everyone cheering me through the finish line but from a horrible realization that I just raced my ass off for nothing. Read the rest of this entry »
Flashback Friday: The report from my first mountain bike race last year, The Ridgeline Rampage in Castle Rock, CO – part of the Rocky Mountain Endurance Race Series…
It’s that time again. Another installment of what Race Rookie doesn’t know about racing. (In other words, WARNING, an unnecessarily long-winded recap). This time it came as a bit of a surprise since I was at least on familiar turf with my trusty 5 inches of travel and miles of dirt underneath. I prepped by reading a friend’s race report and understood the need to get out front early before we hit the singletrack. However, I was not aware the race coordinators had added an extra challenge by strategically placing obstacles at all of the most inconvenient places on the trail (men who can’t climb, men who can’t corner, men who can’t descend, men in white lycra, and some dude with a shark helmet). But I’m jumping ahead… Read the rest of this entry »
Let’s jump right in. That’s what I said this time last year when I began my metamorphosis from drag-my-ass-up-the-hill Mountain Biker to hardcore cyclist. That’s right, I opened the Roadie door.
- Carbon-fiber race machine with matching frame, saddle, and handlebar tape? – Check!
- Full-zip fitted jersey with pockets (for what? the spare crankset that won’t fit in my CamelBak?) – Check!
- Pro-padded spandex shorts without a sweet baggy Kevlar cargo outer layer? – Check!
- Water bottles, CO2 cartridges, and poo in a pouch (I mean goo)? – If I must! Read the rest of this entry »
I am a lifelong dabbler. In projects, sports, jobs, and just about everything with the exception of books, I have perfected the concept of “try” without perfecting anything. I wouldn’t call myself a quitter, because everything I’ve started is now within what I consider to be a state of persistent simmering. Waiting to be taken off the proverbial back burner and turned into my next masterpiece of expertise. With a house full of back burners, however, it seems I’ve never found room for a distillery. Huh? Sorry, I got too deep in metaphors and kicked on the alcohol lobe of my brain. Bottom line, I’m not an expert. Read the rest of this entry »