Puff Baby, and Transcendental Shred

I can check the Cream Puff off my list. Yesterday was a perfect day to
ride the Alpine trail in Oakridge three times.
The weather topped out at eighty degrees and the trail conditions were
superb.
It's hard to believe it's over though, after a full spring and summer
of training.

This time around I felt so much more prepared and the race was less
traumatic. Granted the course in '08 was brutal and the weather was 100+
degrees, but there were some key factors that helped improve my experience
this year.

1) Mental preparedness.
The silent ten day meditation I did last year helped me a lot. If I got through that I can
get through anything. It helped me deal with my thoughts that can
either be my friend or enemy. My inclination tends toward the dark side
and ten days with no way to distract myself gave me the opportunity to balance
that out. Endurance racing means finding the light in your own darkness, and fighting
deep down demons that might appear otherwise in different ways.

2) Physical preparedness.
Had some damn good times training and wonderful people to do it with. Part of doing
an endurance event like this is because of the training. It takes a lot of time and energy and after a while spending every weekend on epic mountain bike adventures gets tiring, but hard to complain about doing something so awesome so much. Abby Watson did the race as well and she and I spent so much time exploring Oregon trails and roads in order to train. Plus, she's one of the most adaptable people I know, which is a brilliant quality to learn from. She had a great first epic endurance race.

3) Bad ass and wu-wu Pit krew.
I've had some amazing support from massage therapists, acupuncturists, and my movement therapist. Ira noted that if my pit krew were on the sidelines, rather than wearing baseball caps and hoodies, they would be sporting flowy pants while waving crystals and singing as I went by. Auh....auh...auh.

However, Ira and Matt were so great to have for support. They didn't sing as I went by,
but they are constant sources of inspiration as fellow mountain bikers. They simply shred, nuf said.
Plus, my bike was dialed thanks to Ira. My body felt like an extension of the machine, like a yin yang promoting balanced energy to roll through the woods (om shanti..om). I am very grateful for that mechanic of mine.

4) Calories in the food hole.
My tendency is to eat whole, good, food. As much as possible I try to avoid refined sugar and artificial flavoring. Last time I did CP nutrition was a major issue though, and I definitely didn't get enough calories. Partly it was the heat from that year and partly it was that I tried to stick to my whole food diet. This year I was determined to not have the same problem. I trained with science food like unflavored Perpetuem, but knew I'd need a lot more than that during the race. It's hard to imagine what your body is going to want after so much riding.
The morning of the race I made myself eat huge breakfast portions at 4am when nothing sounded good. Then on the first climb up 1910 I continued to eat because I knew it would be easier earlier than later. Half way up the second round of 1910 my body revolted when I tried to feed it a bar. Okay, sticking to the liquid stuff, I resorted to putting gels, sugary blocks, and Perpetuem continuously in "the food hole" for the remainder of the race. At the aid stations I ate anything salty I could find, and towards the end of the race I was so happy to be done just because I wouldn't have to eat anymore. My stomach is still a little funky from the race. Nutrition is a hard one for events like these especially for someone who doesn't like to detach from the food they're putting in their body, but calories are calories and it seems like science food is the most effiecient way to get them.

My naturopathic pit krew person compared doing a race like this to birthing a baby. The training is like the pregnancy, the actual event is the birth, and she suggested that I give myself time and respect for what I've accomplished after - to avoid post-race depression. Western society has a tendency to just get back to life as usual, and to just keep an eye on what's next. Not me though, my Puff baby and I are recovering fully and going to take some time to enjoy doing nothing.

More Core than Core

About a month ago I cracked my ribs on the Whoops trail in Bend.
It was my second run down and that trail is built to make one feel
pro, and though my plan wasn't to get air the jumps contradicted my
intention, pushing me to my gravitational limit. So with my butt almost as far back as my wheel I was indeed
going to land this fluky jump - until I looked up
and realized I was headed for a tree. My better reflexes turned my handlebars
out of the way and I came crashing down on my ribs. The better option, I'm
convinced.
The rest of the ride was pitiful.
Breathing hurt.
If anyone has injured a rib they know how annoying it can be. The simplest
movements, especially getting up and lying down, are torture. Then you'll
get mystery sneezes that feel like you've pierced the depths of your being.

Since I'd already planned on doing the 6hrs of Washugal a week later
I went ahead and did it. My ribs hadn't improved a bit, in fact, they felt worse than before.
My support crew consisted of Abby, Sarah, and
a bottle of Advil, and I did the race. It was painful yet awesome and riding home
from Washugal was just what we needed for our hundred mile mountain bike race
training.

Shortly after the race, and about a week and a half after the injury I went
to see a friend of mine who does body/energy/somatic/movement therapy. It's
hard to describe exactly what she does because it's very subtle. I told her
about my ribs and she did some light massage and instantly I felt better.
Not only that but she talked me through some movement therapy and I visualized
myself from the inside out - my whole skeletal system working in one unit. Implementing
that into the way I do everything, which is hard because of stubborn patterns that
already exist. But, Hans Selye observed stress to be a disease of adaptability, so rather than think I'm stuck in a fixed arrangement I am learning the ways in which my
body wants to align itself.

This process is more core than core, and it takes constant mindfulness. It's
retraining the brain and utilizing the body to its fullest potential. The body is
an instrument and anyone who at one time or another has been in the 'flow', which I hope is everyone, knows how supple, efficient, and comfortable this space is.

The mind, body, bike connectedness creates a perfect balance of conscious energy that
pairs wonderfully with my shreditation philosophy on life. This is just the beginning stage of learning a whole lot more about this way of living, but I'm curious and
excited to become more familiar with this insight.

I love theorizing life through mountain biking.

Shreditation

April already and as I seal my Cream Puff registration the rain blows at the window. It has been so wet this year and hard to get into the flow of mountain biking. This past weekend felt like a mini condensed cross season as we rallied to mountain bike regardless of the rain and had three solid days of shred then overhauling bikes to wake up and get muddy again. The lack of sun or dry days is indeed mental training.

However, I really can't complain too much. This year has been full of some new experiences for me. I've tried road racing and loved it( I can't wait to try it on my new road bike!!!), tried my first Super D, and shredded around cactus in Tucson. Plus, Mountain Bike Mondays have returned and we've had some good days in there.

The other day riding down Coyote Gulch, spring flowers peppered the ridge, and I was having such a good ride it felt like I was writing a love letter in cursive on my bike. Just relaxing and accepting things as they came up, and it's not always like that, I know, sometimes things in life won't release my mind and I struggle all the way up or down. Sometimes I over think every obstacle, or show off and get my ego checked around a tree or rock. But shreditation inevitably pulls me in, and even if just for a few moments it reminds me that I am breathing, changing, and completely existing with the environment.

My calendar is filling up and the race in July will come quickly, but this seed of tranquility is sowed by my excitement for adventure. Arriba, arriba!

Rosa y primavera

Yesterday after waking up early to watch the Milan San Remo race I
was more than excited to ride my hot new pink bike to work. That
commute, I tell you, broke records. Pedestrians and motorists
alike stood with brief perplexity at the pink blur that flashed
in and out of their space in time.

Arriving early to work and locking up my ride some kid was yelling
out his window "Hey, nice bike!" I said thanks, then he inquired
"What's it's name?" I hadn't thought about that but the name Rosa
came naturally.

Coming from a background of mountain biking and a ton of road riding
on a ten year old cross bike that I'd raced and ridden into a pile of
steal bones, I never put much emphasis on the bike I was riding. The
cross bike offered some fine rides.
My mindset was that simpler was better and if my bike happened
to be heavier I'd just get stronger. So core. Or cheap. Or lazy.

After my first real ride on Rosa today I must say the bike makes a
difference. My dear friends listened to my gushing about the
responsiveness, the caliper breaks, and how I felt like I was climbing
on air, and descending on a pink cloud.

With all the rain we've been having in Portland the sun that's sure to
shine will transform the city into a candyland of cherry blossoms, tulips,
verdant pastures, and Rosa rides through it all.

Bienvenido la primavera.