Building Habits

At the beginning of December, I set some goals for myself for the 2015 season. But it's so hard to work toward a goal without an actual game plan, so I made one of those too. Writing it down made it real. Putting it on the refrigerator so I would see it everyday made it scary. So, I'm tackling this monster one month at a time. In December, I drank at least 8 glasses of water per day, averaged over 8 hours of sleep per night, did yoga/stretching at least 4x per week and did a 1 minute plank almost every day. I did not get to the bike park once a week. I did not do bike sprints even once. Lesson learned – I put too much shit on my “to do” list. Making goals is frightening, sharing them with other people makes me want to throw up. Too much vulnerability. But you know what? It's January, and I'm going to the bike park today.

Dawn to Dusk Mountain Bike Race Report

This is the desert. Trails are usually dusty and packed down like concrete or loose like a pool of quicksand. But not today, not this day. Rain is here, and it's fucking awesome. The start line is a sea of cheap waterproof shells, some people are wearing plastic bags. I am one of the few people with a hooded jacket - when a small crowd notices, jealousy ensues. The sun is rising, though you can't really tell because the sky is hazy and grey.

The promoter announces that the 15+ mile lap loop has been altered to a high water route, which skips the rocky descent and replaces it with smooth rollers. I am on a 4 person team and am the first to ride – the lap starts on pavement for a 2 mile uphill climb before turning right onto the trail. Shit. I hate climbing, even more so on the road. I start out at the middle of the pack, but I don't stay there for long. A guy on a singlespeed fat bike with his hands off the bars passes me and I figure I should just accept my place at the back of the line.

The rain stops by the time I get to the trail, so I ditch my jacket at the team tent and keep riding. The trails look like someone came through and covered the course with peanut butter. Climbs are slow (well, slower than normal) and drops are sketchy at best. Naturally, a shit eating grin appears on my face. Really though, there's mud in my teeth.

A few hours later it's time for lap 2. The trails are almost completely dry, but they are tacky as hell. The back half of the loop is slightly downward sloping and I keep pedaling. It's fast and scary and my eyes are watering so much I can barely see. I'm pumping the backside of rollers and finding a flow that is rare for me on race days. My bike has changed from green to clay, my hands are numb and my shorts are splattered in layers of dirt in varying degrees of dryness. This is the desert. Rain is here, and it's fucking awesome.

Tuesday Gear Review - Club Ride Mountain Surf Short

First things first - I am a HUGE product knowledge dork. I love reading gear reviews and manufacturer catalogs, specifically outdoor clothing related. I also work retail, so I'm used to picking apart apparel constantly. Here's the first Tuesday Gear Review!

Club Ride Mountain Surf Short

Photo Courtesy of http://dirtyjane.com

I've been riding exclusively with these shorts for about a month now and have logged 100+ miles. As a side note - I am using them with the My Alibi Clothing Bloomer Chamois Shorts which is a killer combo. Here's the breakdown on the good, the bad, and the plain old facts.

What I Like: 

• Shorter inseam than most baggy shorts. My husband affectionately refers to these as my "booty shorts" (note - for long climbs/high mileage this slowly turns into a negative, as they can ride up slightly causing my thighs to touch the saddle)
• Wicked lightweight fabric that dries suspiciously quickly, but in the meantime people may or may not think you've peed your pants
• Snap closure - Yay! I have a history of destroying regular buttons and their shitty thread
• 2 large hand pockets (considering the shorter inseam) and 1 zippered right/rear pocket. The zipper pocket is pretty much only good for a car key, energy gel, or that old Motorola Krzr in your junk drawer.

What I Can't Stand:

• Camel toe - let's be honest
• Shorter inseam (told you) won't accommodate all liner/chamois shorts, so be sure to look into this 
• I am a size 10 and take a size Large - which leaves me frustrated, yet again, with the outdoor industry for not offering larger sizes. Chicks who ride bikes have big thighs!

Techy Things:

• Gusseted crotch so you don't split your pants!
• Abrasion resistant and lightweight PowerWeaveTM material 
• 6" inseam

Thanks for stopping by! I would love to get some more feedback from other ladies on these shorts, feel free to comment below!

Don't Blow It!

The days were counting down before my first long mountain bike race. Marathon. Part of me couldn't actually believe I had signed up. For the past two seasons, I had been racing Women's Cat 3 – a short 10 mile loop. This time, I'd be riding a 33 mile loop, and if I made it back in less than 3.5 hrs, I could tack on as many 10 mile laps as possible before the time ran out.

Since I told anyone who would listen that I signed up for this race, naturally I was nervous. Everyone was wishing me good luck and telling me to just have fun. The well wishes were encouraging, but I couldn't shake the self doubt. That voice inside that practically screams, “Don't blow it!”. What if I was slow? What if I didn't finish? What if the judges took one look at me at the start and knew I couldn't hack it? What if the other racers knew it too?

The alarm woke me up in a panic at 4:30AM on Saturday. This thing was real and I was just going to have to dig deep and get it done. My hands were sweating as I packed my gear for the drive to the mountains. Marathon. I checked the registration website before I left the house. My jaw dropped as I read 19 ladies had signed up!

The next 4 hours were a blurred countdown until the 8:30AM start time. All of a sudden I was surrounded by over 70 other riders, men and women, in a sea of shaved legs, energy gels and co2 cartridges. 2 minutes until show time. The announcer was rambling on about his decision to line the men up first and the women behind, but I wasn't listening. I turned all my attention inward, mentally preparing myself for spending 3+ hours in the saddle with no music, no conversation – just me.

The cowbells started and the front rows of riders took off in a mad dash for the holeshot. I had a different strategy than most, I just wanted to finish the damn thing. I settled in at the very end of the pack, taking my time to warm up. Even at my slower pace, my breathing was out of control. I felt like I had swallowed a fist full of sand. It wasn't long before the next category of riders caught up to me – Pro Men. I was caught in a frenzy of lycra and testosterone as they passed me with ease.

Shortly after, the Marathon route broke away from the main competitive track. I was the last rider, and I didn't care. The sun was still coming up, I welcomed its warmth on my face. The only sounds were shifting gears, tires rolling over rocks, and water sloshing in my Camelbak. It was perfect. Marathon. 

Originally seen on Dirty Jane : http://www.dirtyjane.com/blogs/news/14034901-dont-blow-it