People who make me proud

Go check out the Monavie/Cannondale site. Bart, Matt, Alex....all of the team, you do Utah proud!

"I'll spot you while you're on the ladder Mum........."

Whenever life gets me a little or a lot down, I look into Rocky and Bella's faces. Their big brown eyes and wagging tails make all life's little woes disappear.

And, seriously, dpgs are way cooler than cats anyway.

Ready for snow

I had a revelation on Sunday while I was walking the hounds up on Empire. I'm ready for skiing and snow. It's time for the bike to be put away and to get my binding function test done on my skis.

I'm ready for all leaves to be covered in snow. It's time to throw the snow tires on the car, for ice particles to form on my nostril hairs and the sound of crunching snow from parking lot four to Snow Park lodge to begin.

The sounds of accents, the recounting of summer, the rush of joy when I see my winter friends is right around the corner.

It's better than Christmas morning.

It is time for winter.

Wheeler race numero dos

If you look real close, you can see the wily Maine coon cat sitting in the window teasing my great white Hunter. We got to listen to two wild chases during the early morning hours. Fortunately cat 2, dogs 0.

What to say about the second race this weekend?

You know the anxiety you feel when you have to go to the dentist and you know he's going to want to stick a needle in your jaw to get rid of that niggling pain you have had for a few months? And what you are really afraid of is he's going to say is, "Sorry Mother Theresa, we're going to have to pull that tooth because you have a full fledged infection in the root." So, he does the root canal and you think you're in the clear, only you still have a niggling pain in your jaw and it's now crawling up to your eyeball and ear. Clearly you think you're dying and you very well may be. But, the real problem is he didn't get all the junk from the root and he has to drill again. You sit in the chair thinking maybe having all my teeth pulled is a better long term option. Dentists...and they wonder why no on likes them!

Well, second race day terror is a little like that. The fear of how bad my legs were going to feel has a way of building up from a sensible/reasonable expectation that I should be tired to a snarly, saliva dripping fanged monster living under my bed ready to snack on my foot as soon as it hits the floor. It is amazing how my imagination is capable of terrorizing my common sense into a scawling infant.

Amazingly, I felt great. My legs were strong like bull. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration but I'm allowed to do that on double race weekends. I put in a good two laps on the course around 10:15am, got a great 45 minute warm-up, pushed out another lap to see if my rear tire was still holding air(it was) and I was pretty much ready to go.

When we lined up, I knew I felt as good as I could for a second race day. I started hard and pushed myself for the whole race. For the very first time, I didn't have that initial thought of, "What the hell am I doing?!" I felt great and tried to ride as hard as I could.

The course suited me a bit because it was fast with lots of single track. I loved the sharp turns, the couple of short steep shots downhill and for the first time the double track didn't beat the hell out of me. I held 6th for the first half of the race until Meara passed me with a lap and a half to go. I tried chasing her but she's all of 12, kidding, but I wasn't able to stay on her wheel.

I am afeared to say that my fitness may be turning a positive corner with half the season over. Typical for me!

Doc conned me into a cool down after the race by promising me a cappuccino that was only .5 miles away....liar... I did get my coffee and he did get me to cool down, so we'll call it a win/win situation.

Right now I am questioning my sanity about doing a double race next weekend. But who am I kidding..sanity is not high on my list of things I want for Christmas!

Wheeler race number 1

So I packed up my devil horns and dress, including forked tail and headed on over to Wheeler Farm. I was sturdy in my belief that 2.5 hours of riding this week was going to ensure me a spot on the podium of satisfaction. ( I only rode 1.5 hours more this week than last week because Darrell was starting to question his original assumption that I was dedicated to the sport of making circles.)



Fortunately the podium of satisfaction is not a concrete entity and can be defined on an individual level. My definition started with that my forked tail was successfully pinned to the back of my dress and not poking me in my anal region. Once I had that mastered, I was at a total loss of what my next goal should be for the race.



THE RACE.....oh yeh, it was about the race not the costume. I only worked 2.5 days this week so my legs were abnormally stress free. Darrell cooked me a waffle and omelet for breakfast so my tummy was happy. I got a great warm up on the trainer. My bike is still not shifting correctly. I chose to keep it out of the big ring rather than have an pre race spat with Doc. All was good.



The start was crazy. Not only was the start official an incompetent nincompoop, but the start area wasn't roped off. Logistically what this means is anyone who is feeling especially anxious will get up in the front row even if it means starting off the road and on the grass. Bad choice since there was a little incline to get back on the road for the take off.



Nincompoop said go to the lady A's only to have them pile up in a big crash 10 feet from the start. Total chaos. They say human's are separated from chimps by several things, one of them being a higher order of intelligence. Lady B's totally negated that assumption when they repeated the same crash as the A's 15 seconds later! I peeled off to the left as I saw Lisa F doing a wheelie into the whole mess. Crazy!

The total good news of the whole race is I didn't get my forked tail caught in any moving parts of my bike. The total bad news of the result was I got a compression flat with one lap to go! Total bummer!

After the crash, I got on Robin's...BAM, POW*...a.k.a. Melissa's wheel and stayed with her until she got around one chickie and I was stuck behind....story of my life don't you know. The single track was tacky, twisty and fun. The ground was a bit lumpy, probably the reason for my later flat.

For once, I didn't lose energy in the middle of the race. I felt strong and was steadly picking off opponents. The fact that people were strewn all over the course with technicals helped me out as well. Until I flatted.

I could see one more woman I thought I could pick up just as I felt my rear tire start to slide out some. I felt the rim burp on the ground and knew I was done. Oh well.

I carried my bike in with one lap to go. Darrell asked me if I wanted to finish the race and he would fix the tire but I said no. I didn't want to just finish. I wanted to be in that same spot with the same opportunity to catch another woman's wheel.

Tomorrow is another day and another race on the books. I am so tired now but am looking so forward to racing again!

Snow day

My two companions and I stayed home today while a poor lad installed the hidden fence during the snowstorm.

I went outside long enough to walk the fence line, move my car out of the garage and take the dogs for a 20 minute romp at the dog park.

Either I'm going to have to go buy heavier cycling clothes, or, I see my riding future getting extremely dim until sunshine hits the pavement again.

It has come to my attention that I am happy. I'm not sure where I picked this piece of merchandise up, but the price tag seems ridiculously low.

I shopped for 6 plus dog years, putting an odd assortment of items in my basket only to find that they were made in Taiwan, guaranteed to last a fraction of their advertised life.

So, sorry for the lack of exciting posts, rants and craziness. Give me time. Something will rub me wrong eventually.

There it is folks. Happy people are sooo boring, aren't they......................

Draper 'cross race

Most people pull out their weeping nappies when they hear the word "rain" in the forecast.

Cyclocross racers rub their hands in glee. They slither, bounce, jiggle around their house looking for layers of clothes, embrocation products and spare wheel sets. They practice their snarliest look in the mirror for the inevitable moment when pain is so great on the race course they need to distract the spectators from the tears pouring from their eyes, snot dripping from the nose and drool hanging from the left corner of the mouth. The look has to be practiced for spontaneity because all thoughts, intelligent or otherwise, are emptied from the brain the moment the race official says, "GO!"

There was no weather for my race. At 11:30am, I was greatly disappointed to see warmish weather and clear skies. At 2:30pm when the men A's and 35 plus A's raced in the pissing rain and 20 degree cooler temps, I was 99% happy to be standing on the side of the course in full rain gear! Perspective is amazing!

Doc has been standing in his pulpit, pen in one hand, paper in the other, preaching to the choir(me)the necessity of riding more than one hour a week. I've been snapping gum while I lounged in the pews rocking out on some ipod tunes and giving him the high sign. What does Dr Cross know?!

Excuse me, but hanging from aspens and pines, climbing ladders and carrying work crap around surely passes as a work out....doesn't it? (And for those of you who don't know me, I truly realize this is only preparing me for my inevitable decline back to primate status.)

I rolled up to the Draper course chewing on what my goals were going to be for that race and the following 7 races of the series. I knew I was eating the whole humble pie at Draper due to lack of riding so I put a check mark in the "going to get a bitchin' work out" column and pasted my smiley face on.

I warmed up for 30 minutes...(the Draper course is surrounded by hills so warming up was the only option.) I rolled up to the start and socialized with the huge mass of women there. Giggle, giggle, hee-hee, ha-ha...the official said go and everyone morphed into demons and off we went.

I tried to stay behind a wheel on the road climb. It was windy and since I hate road climbing, I wanted someone else to do the work. I landed on Lisa Fitzgerald's wheel and stayed with her through the single track until she slithered by two girls for the next set of single track. I ended up stuck on the wheel of a chick who was clearly not a mountain biker. We crept like snails throughout the second single track section while I watched my wheel of choice move away from me. C'est la vie.

I had some gear shifting issues from big ring to little ring. It created a little time slag on my part but probably it was probably more of a mental trip than anything. I didn't want to crank down on the peddles and have the chain break or bunch up anywhere so I coddled it a little. I loved the downhill sections and the sandy cornering. The first single track was fast and fun. The second set of single track was a little grueling but manageable. The run up was ok this year. I'm not a runner, otherwise I would pick a running sport. I managed that part, but didn't kill it.

The following single track was fast with a few tight corners and one short steep downhill followed by a short steep uphill. All and all, a really fun course....except the road climb.

Getting stuck behind the slow rider on the single track ruined my mo' for the beginning of the race but I chugged along. 'Cross is primarily about tactics and I screwed that piece up by not passing her earlier. I hit the proverbial wall mid race but it wasn't as high as the Great Wall of China so I was able to scale it for a recovery at the latter part of the race.

I more than met my goal for the race. My legs have been aching every morning from hanging Chrissy tree lights outside. I wasn't even sure I had anything to give for the race. But, like most cyclocross racers, I am addicted to digging deep to the valleys of twitching muscles and nerves and poking them with a red hot pitchfork. Crazy, huh?

My initial goal of just finish the race and "get a workout" turned into an intrinsic battle of wills. The voice of "you are incompetent" competing with the voice of pain to be overridden with the voice of, "HTFU..harden the .... .. and just do it" These are the voices of 'cross intermixed with the cries of support and the calling out of my name with the spectators. How can I give up when the finish quiets the inside voices and compels peace to reign once again in my soul?

Though.....I can still make a case for moo moo dresses and overindulgence of chocolate.

My humor is back from sabbatical.

Small fact unknown to a country girl. Grocery stores in the city are very busy on Friday afternoon. As a matter of fact, the stores are less crowded than the parking lot. WTF!

Seriously, I consider myself pretty fortunate that I am traveling Foothills in the opposite direction of all the traffic. Unfortunately, they're probably going to some quiet country grocery store while I'm battling wits with the ADD business women trying to park next to Starbucks for a quick end of the week pick me up.

Interestingly, life is pretty simple even with the big move. I have been single for two and a half years. I liked it for the most part. Beyond the obvious part of living a disassembled life for a little bit while the boxes are being emptied, Doc and I are walking in step with each other. Life is not upset in any great manner.

Well, except for the part where my dogs have yet to meet his cats. Bella knows they're present since she sits at the bottom of the stairs intently peering through the dog gate. I'm not really sure if she's interested in the cats or their food.

And, the part where I had to find a gas station I wanted to make my regular pit stop. And, the grocery store I would buy my preferred food. And, riding my bike on a fairly regular route.

It's all coming together. Now, like everyone else, I just have to find time to ride my bike before night falls and the wompus starts roaming the streets looking for mischief. (The wompus is the fictional character that lived behind the living room piano in my childhood home. I am positive he followed me to Utah.)

It's all good. I just can not wait to beat the hell out of myself at the Draper 'cross race tomorrow.

Heber 'cross race

Sorry to my loyal two readers. I have been in the middle of moving so normal life is in a state of nonexistence.

Saturday was a bluebird sunny day. The course is a few blocks from my house so I drove. I am an American and have earned the right to be lazy. Really. I also had fresh stans set up in my wheels and I wanted my pump in case I was still losing air. And a get away car in case the Russians invaded.

I showed up in time to gear up and get a pre ride on the course. I knew there was a small army of goatheads protecting the fairgrounds from anyone who wasn't holding a cone of cotton candy so I only rode on the race tracks.

Bloody fast and unforgiving. There wasn't a single, solitary spot to light up a cigarette and put my feet up. Jon gets a shiny new nickel for the approach to the run up. It was fast with a left hand turn into a barrier before the chunky run up of Mt Heber.

I did one lap and went back to the run up for one more try. I tried to strong arm Chris Sherwin into being my Sherpa during the race. Alas, he simply laughed at me. A girl has got to try.

The red haired siren and I went out for a spin on the road before the race. If I had any sense, I would have lost Melissa in the wilds of Heber. I am simply too much of a hostess, sigh. Gigi had forsaken us for a Big foot sighting adventure so I had the waffle station all to my self.

I tried something different for my start. I lined up in the second row. I wanted to see if staying on someone's wheel in the beginning would help me conserve energy in the end. This was the wrong course for that. It had a long fast stretch right smack into the barriers. Being in the front would have been an advantage rather than bottle necking with everyone at the corner. Also, picking the correct wheel to follow quickly became apparent to me. I need to be on someone who starts as strong as I do and I picked Kara. Normally this may be a good thing but she raced the men c's already so she wasn't quick to begin.

I felt strong in the beginning. Well, as strong as you can when your legs are pounding with blood and your heart is thumping out your ears. About the fourth lap, my body was trying to tell me something. I didn't hear it because I was busy spitting the metallic taste out of my mouth. More importantly, I was having a summit meeting between my legs, heart and brain. My legs felt like they ended in concrete booties and the other two primaries were screaming at them for a little cooperation. Sigh, why can't we all get along.

Brutal. I put a smiley face in the happy column when Kathy finally passed me after the remount on the barriers. It meant I could shortly nurse my ego with some buddies and suckle on my water bottle so get the nasty blood taste out of my mouth.

The good point of the race, I battled with the desire to quit and won.....again. I wish I could say I feel a surge of fitness knocking on my front door but realistically I haven't earned any such gift. Work has been physically demanding. The moving has been emotionally draining. Intellectually......competition doesn't mean much to me in the athletic arena. I'll never have that edge and I'm good with that. AND, I GOT A BUCK FROM FOX!

But, I love the sport and I dig the participants. In the meantime, I'll plan on having a big win when everyone I'm racing with has a big boozer the night before and are throwing up on the course.

The Doc knows best when it comes to cyclocross

For the first time in my cycling life, I don't have to haul my bike to the shop. Darrell keeps fixing my bike ails. This time it was some clinking noise in the Ridley. Clearly it's brand new so the noise was making me a little insane. He fixed it..something to do with something. See, I already forgot what the problem was.

The best part is he took a pound off my bike. This is so AWESOME! It means I don't have to take any lbs off me....total bonus! He simply made my tubeless wheels tubeless. I have been running slime tubes in them. The whole stan technology seemed to time consuming and complicated for me. (yah, I know. Low tolerance level.)

So where does this leave me? With a lighter bike, and, the same absolute fitness I brought to the season. What does that mean? Who the hell knows. I think it means I'll still love the sport as much as I did with the cannondale...my mac truck.

Cycling country mouse moving to the big city.

"Alice laughed. 'There's no use trying,' she said. 'One can't believe impossible things.' 'I daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the Queen. 'When I was your age, I always did it half an hour a day. Why, sometimes, I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.'" Lewis Carroll from 'Alice in Wonderland'

I am freshly amazed each morning by how quickly life moves. I can hear the roar of it passing but like the jet in the sky, it's presence is barely discernible.

Sunday morning I was determined I was going to the Ridley 'cross clinic, sick or not. Fortunately, the day turned in to a sunny, mid warm sort of fall day.



I know I have written this before but it bares repeating. I have taught skiing for over 20 years. It's easy to break skiing down and teach it's components. I have a pretty good inkling of how people learn and how to motivate them to exceed their expectations. No big surprise, but Bart easily does this when he teaches 'cross.

The real burden of teaching is not the teaching. It is the part where you have to get through to the student. It would seem that some people have more hard wiring the information has to pass through. Others take the information as quickly as it takes to shuffle a foot on a carpet and then reach out and get a shock touching a metal object.

I was the kid in school who took the time to touch the window before the metal door handle so I wouldn't get shocked. Three years later, I not only understand the mechanics of 'cross but can execute them with some skill.

Like everything else we learn, once the basics have been installed in our hardwiring, we are ready for an upgrade. Example: No longer do I worry about dismounting after a corner. Instead I can see how Bart kept his front wheel turning while dismounting to keep the forward momentum of his body while lifting the bike. The visual is one of the bike moving at a horizontal angle to the ground but at a slight angle behind Bart. I have a picture but I have to dig it up.

Overall, another great clinic experience even though my calves were tight Monday morning.

The only other news on the front........the country girl is moving to the city. Yah, yah, for all you SLC'ers who say it isn't a city, it is. It is especially for someone who has always lived in a small town and has never had the interest to move to the city...EVER!

Sometimes though, as Aristotle said, "Change in all things is sweet."

You know you don't feel well.......

.....when you stay home to clean behind the stove and refrigerator rather than race your bike.

I know. Most people stay in bed, or, snuggle on the couch with the mutts, or, sit in a hot soapy tub of mineral salts and lavender oil when they don't feel well.

I don't know how to do that. I'm "not well" learning impaired. I tried for thirty minutes this morning. I sat on the recliner couch whilst sipping my coffee and petting my dogs.

Then, hunger struck so I heated up some homemade chicken soup,(yes, for breakfast). Standing in my kitchen was enough of a reminder for me that I am moving in a few short days.

So it began while I stood there eating my soup. I pulled bits and pieces of my life off the shelves and started stacking and sorting. That led to vacuuming and cleaning. Somehow or another, I ended up pulling my fridge and stove away from the walls. I found staked out areas claimed by the massive hair/dust bunnies living there.

Now, all the dishes are sitting on my counters instead of in the cupboards. I ran out of steam about 2pm. I struggled with not going to the fairgrounds to watch the women race. I struggled with not watching Doc race. I struggled with not eating the pumpkin cake and banana bread I made,(trying to use up little drivels of ingredients that I don't want to move with me.)

Here it is, 6:15pm. I missed the race but I made some inroads on my new life. I do feel like the stuff cats regurgitate on the living room rug that still has bits of fur and bone attached. I do feel sad about leaving my home.

I also believe the teeter totter will swing in the other direction tomorrow.

Secret 'cross training

My training started with a trip to the social security office this morning. Did you know they don't open their windows until 9am? I didn't. I supposed they would be ready to go by 8:30 at the latest. Did you know you need to jump through a whole lot of hoops to get back your birth given name? Yup, I'll be making a third trip in the near future.

I showed up at one of my gardens on top of Bald Eagle, DV to not garden but to power wash a deck the size of my house so we can stain it later this week. Much lower on the fun factor than splashing my bike through the Wheeler race course on a snowy November Saturday.

I wasn't too cold even though the temps were low enough that I was shoveling the snow off before I used the washer. And it was kind of fun to spray a neighbors cat teasing my dogs. The waterlogged gloves and shoes was totally reminiscent of a Heber race we had two years ago. The fairgrounds were waterlogged and the mud ripped derailers of bikes.

After clipping back a few plants, I packed up the dogs and we went for a little 'cross training. Riding with Bella is a bit like being in the midst of a bunch of ill mannered racers. She gets very excited to run with me and very upset if I pull away from her.

And then there is the necessary ball throwing session and pond skimming hour. I'ld like to say I receive serious benefits from these rides but I think it's more likely I'm piling more hours in the fun bag than anything.

But that's what I do.

Utah 'cross # uno, the pain cave

Get your durrrr, da, durrr ready(cardboard on the inside of paper towels used for announcing special occasions). Roll out the wet grass. Dig the slippy slide from the basement. Practice breathing with a Darth Vador mask over your nose and mouth.

Ring, Ring. Hello? This is Matt, the Maitre'd of the Utah cyclocross series. I have your invitation to the PAIN CAVE!

Time to 'cross!

My secret 'cross training plan unfolded true to form at my first race yesterday. I wrung my hands all summer strategizing on my performance for the '09 season. Doc gave me outrageously silly advice like, "ride your road bike". Dayna said eat clean to fuel my body so I consumed lots of croissants.

(Oooh, speaking of fuel, I need a new intake something or other on my escape. The idle on it sounded a bit like my lungs yesterday for the first 20 minutes of the race.)

I listened to them just like I listened to my mother when I was a headstrong teenager. I knew they were correct but I was probably going to go my own way none the less.

I had some cool gadgets like a skin suit and carbon fiber bike. I lined up next to Christy Clay who was looking a little white around the gills. Sorry Christy, I should have offered to let you leave your butterflies with mine in my warm up jacket.

They gave us 30 seconds to go and I mentally counted down. At go, I jumped into the lead and held it stubbornly for the first few minutes. I held a pretty decent spot for the first lap which is a huge improvement from last year. This was the first thing that made me happy. I was passed by much of the field by the middle of the second lap but I was o.k. with that....I was following my secret training plan to the letter 'T'.

The second piece of the day that made me happy were the barriers and infield. I am approaching the barriers with quite a bit of speed and maintaining it while I run through them. The twisty turny infield with it's small rollers and logs fed my strengths in cycling so I was able to regain wheels there.

I still struggle with the long, open stretches. I'm told it's lack of power but I think it's total boredom with open space. Either that or my force field is creating too much friction with the gathering air space.

You know that gap between a man's waistline and his butt crack that is such a small distance but really needs to go away??? That was the gap between Melissa and myself for the latter half of the race. The jeans would get pulled up right near the barriers with me pulling right up to her just to fall back down to the crack on the following straight away. Fortunately for all of us, she has to have a party with her subsequent domination of me.

I didn't really see Kris Walker so much as feel her pushing against my force field. Close your eyes for the next paragraph because some of you all might not like this description of her approach.

It was like losing my virginity. It was going to happen at some point so the path of least resistance seems to make the most sense. It doesn't mean I just handed it over like a piece of coffee cake sans the fixins'. I dressed it up with a nice little dessert fork, purty piece of china and a glass of milk. There has to be some ceremony present. But, eventually, the coffee cake gets eaten and everyone is happy. (Ok, that description weirds me out a little but I'll keep it.)

Same with letting Kris pass me. I saw her coming up in the infield me so I prepared myself for the inevitable. About the time she passed, I had the perfect opportunity to follow her line over the logs. Damn, I wish she had done that sooner so I had a cleaner line throughout the race!

I finished, did a cool down lap with some of the gals and paraded myself back to the finish to chat with Doc about my mishaps and victories.

So with that, I have entered the 'cross season with a bitch of an opening race. I don't suppose I'll ever love the Weber fairgrounds for it's flat, wide open space but it's 'cross so I'll take it.

Hey, what do you call a dog's badankadank? Badogadank...ahahahahahahahha..I kill myself!

'Cross panic

Can you believe we went from sunshine and fall to clouds and winter? I took this picture, yes, while I was walking Rocky and Bella this afternoon.

I tried the bike riding thing, because I had to. Brakes went on the car, no bueno. The bike ride was short but friggin' cold! Fortunately, Wayne loaned me the use of his car so I'll be rockin' the family van until Ford figures out what's wrong with my car.

So here is the thing, I worked by myself today at the distillery. No yacking, no constant questions, no music, no machinery...it was GREAT! And, I had a small room with a view of the falling snow. Now don't get me wrong, I am not ready for winter but the whole day was very peaceful...until the brake incident.

I have been oiling wood for one of the offices. I wish I could tell you what kind of wood but it goes in one ear and out the other. The fact is it doesn't matter. What matters is how beautiful the wood looks after the watco is applied. The varying colors pop up into an amazing kaleidoscope of reds and browns. Visit the distillery when it opens and check out the panels on the bar. It is the same wood.

I was embroiled in 'cross panic last night. It is likely that Friday will be my only ride day this week before the Weber fairground race on Saturday. Climbing scaffolding and ladders squished my desire to ride this week. Cold, snowy weather completed the damage.

The quiet of today brought it all back in to perspective. I don't know how or why, but I removed some of the fat layers insulating my sanity. I can count on one thing and only one thing on Saturday. It will hurt like hell.

Morning sun rise during our dog walk.

Ski instructor, anyone?

I walked the dogs at 7am before I left for work. It was the least I could do after only allowing them two thirds of my bed last night.

I showed up at mid mountain Deer Valley with a little trepidation about the cold. I may be a ski instructor but I don't like being chilled in any way, shape or form. My job, get this because I think it's truly funny, was to help my co workers take siding off a McMansion.

No way in hell do I see myself levering my body weight against a crowbar while standing on an extension ladder or scaffolding. It just isn't something I foresee myself putting on my resume. Fortunately, Edo knows this and put me on painting detail.

The good news? I spent the day with a crew of ski instructors I like. The bad news? Extension ladders. Some day when I grow up, I want to be able to move one while it's upright. Right now, I can do a bit of a crab walk/sideways shuffle with them. Anything else is pure comedy, and, broken windows.

The owner seems to appreciate the fact he sees me on all of Edo's work sites. Since he hasn't offered to make me his trophy wife, I expect he will continue to see me where ever Edo tells me to go.

What is the point of this post? Why to explain my 'cross training, of course. I did an 8 hour core workout combined with some serious step ups and lunges. My arms are tired enough from brushing that I don't suppose I'll attempt to train on my cross bike tonight.

We'll all be on the same site tomorrow with the hope we can get the major amount of our work done before the weather change.....maybe a nasty race on Saturday? Hmmm, I can only hope.

Sugar house 'cross practice

Perspective. That's what I got out of Thursday night. And sore legs and ribs.



There won't be any psychiatric hospital visits over the dismounting and remounting on the bike. Passing the right foot through the bike and left foot for the dismount is a snooze. I am moving with much more momentum and ease over the barriers. I still have a little hop remounting but I'm confident that will change soon.



No tire marks on the crotch from a missed remount. No flaying around on the ground because my foot didn't come un-clipped. I didn't create a domino effect by hitting a barrier.



I put on my invisibility cloak when Doc was looking for someone to lead the B group around the park. I wasn't sure it would work with a significant other, but it appeared to function since he picked Dayna.



Perspective:



I finished the evening with some unsettling feelings after watching some of the new women handle their bikes. It was somewhere along the lines of, "Holy crap, more newbies to whoop my ass."

Have you ever noticed that dog sitting next to the car waiting for the owner to come over and let him off the leash? He sits up, eyes focused, head twisting, tail wagging. Eventually, when he realizes the owner isn't going to come over, he settles down on his belly, head cupped between his paws, tail sitting silently.....kind of hopeful, but a little resigned.

I felt a little bit like that. A little resigned to my fate as a B woman racer. A mid pack filler while all the bloody gifted athletes soar past me in their first year of racing. Yes, I know, poor Mama T. Boo hoo hoo.

I did the mature thing. I assessed my feelings and decided how I would manage what I viewed as a potential beating this fall. Well, the problem with that is not all the personalities agreed with my analysis. I put democracy aside, put Mature Theresa in as the head of the monarchy and threw the peons in the cellar chained to the wall. Of course the echoes of their wailing still seeped up into my bedchambers so I took an ambien. Nighty night.

The next day, two things happened. I received a simple note from a friend and thought deeply about another one. One's confessions brought tears to my eyes. The other's troubled brow stirred my sympathy.

Through the complexities of our personalities, our goals, our lives, everything that makes us individuals, we make pure maple syrup a complex manufactured product with brown coloring that doesn't retain the original simple flavor of nature. Whooooaaa, that is not an explanation, Theresa!

As much as we try to be simple, we are not. It is the nature of the human beast. I was reminded by my two friends to not only use my crayons to color life but to borrow from them as well.
Blah, blah, blah, she says.

Maybe you will understand this. The fabric of our lives is a richly colored, multi patched quilt that needs tender care and many repairs. As much as I feel like I keep tripping over mine, I have capably repaired the torn bits. Occasionally the reminder that others are doing the same, makes the world more intimate and sane. Hell, quit with the metaphors, girl! Okay, I'm done.

However, with all that said. I still worry about the ass kicking! Just sayin'.

'Cross time