Reporting back: Part 1. Battle Creek Cross

Dude. That was a great week-end. Epic, really.

But it started out normal. A Starbuck's Mocha (or Tall non-fat signature hot chocolate mocha w/ light whip). A little "light" reading in the form of a non-"Twilight" vampire novel called the Historian (I highly recommend it BTW). Afterward, I mosied on over to see a sightly disappointing Strands 5K (I won't go into it... but so much more could have been done to promote this had anyone really focused on the local running community... maybe that wasn't the point?).

Then it was off to the races!

I pulled up to the Battle Creek Cyclocross race with the dregs of my mocha and cheered in friends Matt and Matt and Brent as they completed competing in the Men's Cs. Then while watching the Juniors show us old fogies how it's done, I started the coals for a BBQ lunch. You see, I miss the Saturday tradition of tailgating at football games, and it being Mizzou's homecoming, the loss was particularly poignant and almost palpable. So, I loaded up on burgers, brats, apple-chicken sausage (it's a staple), condiments, and sauerkraut. It was perfect. Tailgating cyclocross is almost as good as a football. Almost.

Time to race.

All the ladies race categories are on the course at the same time in the Willamette series, and thankfully, my race was only 45 minutes long. At the line I had my game face and my game socks on.


The race went something like this: We all went out hard. Some harder than others. By the start of the second lap, I was 20 seconds down from 1st, 20 seconds up on 3rd, and that's pretty much how the race went.... with the exception of a few antics on my part. Ahem. To be fair, one of said antics was the direct result of egging and ribbing from my teammates, but I get ahead of myself.

The course was flat and fast (golf course), with off-camber twists and turns, a little weaving through the trees (and roots), two sets of barriers, two sand pits, and a nice, big 2 ft ledge that you could either ride up if you brought your cajones or dismount/remount on if you brought your preserve-personal-safety-non-cajones. I tackled most of this like a seasoned crosser... except the ledge. If I could have practiced it before hand, then maybe it would have been doable. But, every time I came around (7 laps total), I couldn't do it. Despite my teammates best cheering efforts (and I was super-psyched to have them there). But, what I could do on the second to last lap, was the bike wave:




Well, on the 7th and final lap, with a healthy cushion between me and third place, I decided to go for it... and by "it" I don't mean what actually happened:

Like I said. I went for it. Wouldn't it have been cool if.... Thanks to all my Pacific Power Blue Sky teammates for the various pictures and video and cheering and BAR-point mongering and grilling. You people rock.

Race week-end

Back from Switzerland and at it again.

Today, I'll be an athletic supporter at the Strands 5K in the morning. Later, I am the official "Dead Meat Chef" at the Willamette Valley Cyclcross race... orchestrating the post-race grillin' up of beast parts so's everyone on my Pacific Power/Blue Sky team (and others) can get their RDA of nitrates and other performance-decreasing substances. Sauerkraut anyone?

In the afternoon, it is my turn to tear up the golf course. The bike is race ready again, thanks to cycling buddy Denny. He used up his yearly quota of expletives while replacing my cables last week. He had to remove my old grimy bar tape that had congealed with the handle bar. It took hardcore paint stripper to get that stuff off.

After that I submerge the lower half of my body in an ice bath, watch OSU kick USC's a$$ in football, and continue to carbo load for Sunday's adventure: the sufferfest known as the Mac Forest 15K trail run. I'm trying to break 1:10, for the 9.whatever course if that gives you any indication of how hilly and hard it is. And, to make it even better.... It's been raining sinks and stoves every other day, and race day is supposed to be another wet one. Do you think I should put the spikes in my shoes or just hope the waffling on the Brooks Cascadia's (I've got the pink ones, of course) is enough to keep me from slipping to my death?

I'll report back.