Late summer dinner

Not going to work in a cubicle every day is pretty amazing. I forgot how wonderful it is to set my day's work based on my own rhythms.

It could mean complicated cooking, too, but mostly, I've just added a few slightly more complicated or time-consuming pieces to my regular cooking routines. Last night, fresh from a trip to the farmer's market where a Mexican American farmer's lovely smelling herbs drew me to her tent, Rancho el Milagro. This herb, she said, would make my salsa (and of course now, I can't remember the name of it). Dinner plan, commence!

I picked up onions and garlic from Robinette Farms, queso fresco from Dutch Girl Creamery, and sunflower sprouts from Shadowbrook Farms. I had tomatoes from my mother's garden at home, jalapeños from my own, and plenty of flour to take the time to make homemade tortillas. I fixed up some TVP with homemade taco seasoning, set out some fresh limes, and I may just have had the best tacos I've ever made. 

 Eat fresh, eat local. It makes you happy. Seriously.

EMG

It wasn't easy, but I got up early enough for 16 miles of early morning gravel before work today.

Northern Adventure

The view from the tent door Thursday night/Friday morning. Photo taken sometime in the night. It's good to get away.

Something different on skinny tires

We made a team executive decision to vote with our feet (wheels?) and register for the Nebraska State Championship Road Time Trial en masse. Sunday morning, 6 strong and beautiful Sheclismas hit the pavement in the so-called "race of truth" -- 24 miles, solo. All photos courtesy of Dan Farnam.

 Of course, we at Sheclismo World Headquarters all know Sydney Brown is the fastest woman in Nebraska, but it was nice to have her bring home a medal for the team proving as much. She cranked it out in one hour and 47 seconds. So sleek and fast.

Emily Hoesly, who came into the cyclocross scene last fall, joined in on the team spirit and made it across the line our fastest Cat 4 in 1:11:07.

 

On my shiny new road bike, I was just 40 seconds shy of Emily's time, with 1:11:51. More on that new bike and my experience in a bit.

Allison Hunt came back to the road after a bit of a hiatus, and we're stoked she's rocking our kit. She came through the line in 1:14:21.

Newcomer Emily Grace, who's really the one responsible for getting us all to sign up -- she wants to try a bit of everything before she leaves the States for graduate Physics research in the UK -- threw slicks on her beloved Kona Jake and cranked out the miles in 1:22:43.

And Sara Nispel, who jumped in to register at the last minute, rocked her first time trial in 1:24:02. Note her amazing bar tape style.

Ok, so what did I think of the TT? Well, I should've spent a bit more time on the new bike (an awesome Trek Madone 6 WSD set up for me by the Midtown Omaha Trek Store), particularly in the mock-aero position. When I went for a longer ride Saturday, I felt like the saddle wasn't really in the right place. Granted, it's not my tried-and-true WTB Deva, so I thought maybe it was just different, not bad. Well, it was bad. My hip flexors and hamstring attachments started to hurt from just a few miles in, and I was definitely not sitting on my sit bones, as it were. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. Gentlemen, I'm happy to explain to you if you ask.

My goal for the race was to get as close to a 20 mph average as possible, knowing that hitting that over the full 24 mile distance with a bit of headwind was likely to be a bit out of reach. The other goal I had was to attain a negative split, meaning a faster second half than first. I hit the 12 mile turnaround at 36 minutes flat, making 1:12 or less the goal. My average speed for the first half was sitting right around 19 mph. After a sloppy turnaround where I thought they were telling me I had to go through the cones, bike-rodeo style, I kicked it up, enjoyed the bit of tailwind, and enjoyed throwing thumbs-up to my teammates who'd had later start times.

My average pace kept ticking up, and by halfway back, I was fluctuating between 19.6 and 19.8 mph. The last five miles, I knew I'd be cutting it really close to make my goal. I pushed, I counted seconds, I went as hard as I could through the finish. I coasted for the first time in 24 miles as I rolled down the road to head back to the parking lot, and when I started to pedal again, I cried out. My hip flexors and hamstring attachments were in agony, and didn't want to work. Whimpering, I got myself across the highway, pulling off through some deep mud and into the grass. I got off the bike, worried I might just fall over. I was spared that, but it felt like I had doll legs or something with how little they wanted to bend. New rapper name: TT-Pain.

Mega-awesome site planning by Greenstreet Velo -- we got to shower in the Yutan High School locker room. My goodness, that was welcome.

In true Sheclismo style, we celebrated our accomplishments with a little Bulleit. Bring on 'cross season...we're ready.

Beasts

I want to see this.

Ponca's Revenge, a Three-for-One Race Deal

Pre-ride team photo for Emily's first ever race. Photo: Matt Gersib

Ok, before you read my post about the Ponca State Championship MTB race, go read Emily's. It's amazing. Seriously, did you do that yet? Ok...read on.

While southeastern Nebraska finally got some much-needed rain Thursday night and Friday morning, up in the northeast, they'd only gotten a trace.

"What if it rains while we're out there," Rafal asked at the start line.

"Unless it's bad lightning, or it really becomes impossible to ride, we're going to keep going," Roxanne replied.

We started the race on dry and dusty trails, nevermind the looming storm clouds and occasional thunder. So dusty, in fact, that right after the upper road crossing on the first lap, I slid out so bad I nearly lost it in the loose stuff. Fun. fast. And through some bad luck for Anne, I'd put a bit of a gap on her, holding it steady by cranking up the climbs on my 1 x 10.

Crazy rooted descent. Photo: Jeremy Cook

My Colorado weekend definitely had me doing much better on the few technical sections this year. It was especially awesome to come through that section with singletrack superstar Rox watching, saying "nice" with every line I successfully picked, closing with "yep, that's it!" as I made it to the bottom.

Ok, so dry & dusty, right? Well, then it started raining. Light at first, which felt pretty good, but then it got heavier. After leading through lap 2, and then having a funny slow slog through now crazy greasy sections with Anne on lap 3, she overtook me on the long climb after the feed zone, when my need to stand on top of my gear was thwarted by my completely mud-packed and therefore tractionless tire. I was frustrated to watch her crank by in a granny gear, more frustrated because in cyclocross, I love the mud. But a thick mountain bike tire full of mud, well, that's totally different. Late in that lap, CX superstar Troy Krause came up to me, and we commiserated that point a bit. This was no muddy cx race. 

Climbing up to the road. Photo: Michael McColgan

As usual, some of the middle of the race is a blur. My bike slid out from under me a few times, but with how soaked and muddy I was, I hardly cared. With the start/finish and feed zone being in separate places on the course, I got thrown off on my lap counting. Emily was all done racing and was great giving me bottles and food, and at road crossings, Megan, Rafal and April gave me updates on my gap to Anne. Their estimates varied from 4 minutes one lap, to closing in on 2 the next, to 10 maybe? I slogged through as the track dried out and the Cat 1s and 2s joined us. I took my fourth-hour pee break. I envied their cleaner bikes and how awesome the trail was getting as I was getting too tired to enjoy it.

Righteous descending. Photo: Michael McColgan

Some parts of the course were rocking fun, and on the last lap, many of them were totally climbable for me once again. I made it cleanly over the steep jump to the road crossing at the top of the bluff for the first time on my last lap. And wow, that was awesome. I knew I was flirting with the cutoff time, and I was pretty sure I wouldn't make it. I was pretty sure I didn't want to make it, not wanting to have to decide. I kept watching my clock, wondering how far up Anne was and guessing she'd be going out for another. I really didn't want to have that happen and have me miss the cutoff, but I just didn't have it in me to push harder. Gersib came by me, saying that even if he made the cutoff, he was done. That probably sealed it for me, and I eased off the gas for good, cruising into the finish 2 minutes after the cutoff, 4 minutes behind Anne, who'd been hoping I wouldn't make it and be crazy enough to go out for a 7th lap.

"You've got a little something on your face." All done. Photo: Jeremiah Grell

I finished soaked, pruned hands, tired, and happy. Thanks, as always, to everyone who makes this as special as it is to me. The smile pretty much says it all.

Colorado

It's summer-ish. Spent the weekend in Colorado testing my comfort limits (and greatly exceeding their bounds) on close to 60 miles of Rocky Mountain singletrack.

I could probably live there...

Minnesota Gravel at the Almanzo 100

We had a fun trip north last weekend to the southeastern corner of Minnesota for the Almanzo 100 gravel race (and for some travelers, the more daunting Royal 162). Berly and I had an amazing bathroom, wheelchair accessible, which resulted in a full-bathroom shower and a phone next to the toilet, just in case of SHEnanigans...

The trophies for this fantastically run, beautifully designed and marketed event are Mason jars of gravel. Rad. I was pretty sure there was no way I was in contention for one of them -- with some 550 toeing the line and roughly 100 of them women -- but I was hoping for a top-10 female spot. I've been getting miles in, mixing disciplines, and in the hot (for MN) and windy conditions, I might actually be better off than the northerners.

The start was incredible, with riders stretched all along curved road, 6 or 7 across. Berly and I rocked our awesome-looking new kits -- looking sleek! 

 We all sang happy birthday to race organizer Chris Skogen's son, who just turned 6. Pretty awesome. And then the race began! It was a crazy fast, dusty start, and I moved my way up toward roughly the second or third group. (Though really, there were so many riders that aside from the front pack, it was just lines and lines of bikes.) The first 20 miles flew by. A couple climbs shook things up a bit, and they weren't like the rollers we have here. Nope, these were half-milers winding up out of valleys with anywhere from 15-20% grades. At least the gravel was somewhere just bigger than crushed limestone, so worrying about white rock traction wasn't an issue.

Yeah, you gotta watch those children. Shifty little buggers.

 Lots of roads wound through the woods, and the shade offered some nice relief from the sun, which was pushing temperatures well into the 80s. The other benefit was a break from the wind, which was sustained at 30+ mph all day. The crosswinds were the worst -- I've never come that close to being literally blown off the road before, and found myself in the gutter more than once. And trying to follow wheels of total strangers in conditions like that wasn't exactly the most comfortable. So while I'd find people to ride with a bit from time to time, I was mostly flying solo.

 Grocery store water and bathroom stop in Preston, 40 miles in. Really dusty legs. I tried to make this a really quick stop, and it's debatable whether the roughly 10 minute wait for a real bathroom was worth it. At least it was nice and cool in the store, too.

There were about 20 miles between Preston and the oasis at Forestville State Park, and when I hit the road again, all the people I'd been riding nearby were still resting and refueling. I hit the long headwind climbs out of town alone, burying my head and staring at my cue card begging for a turn out of the wind. It came in the form of Jay Road, the first climb where I got off the bike. Good thing I'd been staring at the card, too, because a pack a little bit ahead of me missed the turn.

Pack riding somewhere in the hot dust. Photo by Craig Linder.

These 20 miles felt really long, and the heat and wind were starting to wear on me. In a section with tailwind, I made up new lyrics to "Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing Baby" that went replaced "the real thing" with "a tailwind." You come up with some damn silly things deep into these rides that seem super clever at the time.

It got cloudy, and with all the dust and wind, I started wishing it might rain. Pulled into Forestville, refilled bottles and got some nice cold hose water through the helmet, sat in a lawn chair for about 3 minutes, and mounted back up next to a fellow Lincolnite, Dave McCollough, who I introduced myself to after spotting his Trek Store kit and Cycle Works bottles. It was his first gravel grinder, and he was crushing it on a SS 29er. Way to go!

We climbed, then climbed again, then climbed again. Sure, it was pretty, but the winding descents, while super fun, were somehow not making up for all the uphills. Halfway up another climb, 71 or so miles in, I had to pull off the road, get a little "you can do this" pep talk, and stare at this little beer can tree. C'mon. 30 more miles.

Another difference from our grid system? I'd look at the cue sheet, thinking I'd have say 2 miles of crosswind before turning to a tailwind. But then the road would curve and I'd pretty much feel like crying. On one of those roads, there was suddenly someone passing me kind of slowly, and then I saw the camera, and then..."CORNBREAD!!!" Oh, I was so happy to see a familiar smiling face. Nevermind that he had 60 miles on me at that point.

I was SO happy to see Corey. That's the only thing that smile is about. Photo: Cornbread

I hung in his draft for a couple miles, but eventually, around when I fumbled for my camera to take this picture, I lost contact. I was glad, too, because I didn't want him to slow down because of me. But damn, that was a nice draft.

The last 25 miles were pretty excruciating, despite there being a couple sections with pretty righteous tailwinds. I was having a lot of trouble breathing again, and anytime I took a deep breath, my lungs would go through sharp and excruciating pain. Full of dust, tired of working so hard. I started leapfrogging with a couple groups and a couple women, and there was a glimmer of competitiveness that snuck back in. Maybe I was top 20? Maybe higher? If that woman is the difference between a top-whatever spot and not, should I try a little harder?

I ran out of water for the third time that day. A couple riders -- all of a sudden, I met like 3 guys named Dan, maybe I was hallucinating -- gave me fluids, one some horribly opaque pink thing I had to hand back for fear of what havoc it would wreak on my system. I was staring at my computer...10 miles, 9, then 8...ok, this is like a ride to Pepe's, 5, more blasted headwind, almost there, watertower visible...and then pavement. Highway. Headwind. I tucked my head down and threw it in a big gear, so ready to finish.

At the line, people were cheering and Chris was there waiting with a handshake. Super classy. It was a perfect way to finish. 8 hours, 39 minutes, with 8:11 of it ride time. According to the roster (and not sure of gender on some names), that made me either 8th or 9th among the women, 179th overall.

 Big thanks to Sam & Skip at War Axe and Eric at Monkey Wrench for putting together a fine, fine bicycle for me. Not only was I comfortable and confident, but I was getting compliments on it all day. That definitely makes a girl feel good.

And more thanks to my Nebraska gravel travel crew. Had a blast with Berly, Rafal, Cornbread and Schmidty, as well as with Dave and Andy. Next up: a bit of time off, Ponca, and then Odin's Revenge!

Battle Royale at Platte

Hot & humid pretty much sums up the Platte River State Park race this year. Not my favorite weather. At least most of the course is shaded...

Pre-race. Soft trail, no point in warming up for the marathon. Photo: Jeremiah Grell

Cruising up the climb on lap 1. Photo: Jeremiah Grell

The race itself, well it started a little hectic. Lemans start, and my pump went bouncing out of my jersey, had to run back to get it. Climbed much better on my 1x10, floating past people spinning their granny gears. Lost contact with Anne right after the rock garden on lap one after a bunch of messy Cat 3 traffic. (Guys, please just cat up instead of getting frustrated with us when trying to pass. I am looking for good spots for you to get around, but I'm racing too, you know.) I also made the mistake of goofing off too much at the start line, forgetting to eat something right before we started. I crashed in gully the first time through, slamming the nose of my saddle into a very sensitive place. By the end of lap one, I was hungry and already feeling dehydration seeping in.

Faceplant root on Yun2, still ahead of Anne at this point. Photo: Jeremiah Grell

I regrouped in the feed zone, and Roxy let me know Anne was about a minute up on me. I dug into the climbs, but I just didn't feel like I had it in me to mount a successful chase. A secondary goal, however, was taking more risks, and Platte is the perfect course to do that. It is varied, technical, beautifully hand built, and very challenging for a beginner. I think the best thing about racing there this year was having tons of fun on sections that felt well above my ability just a year ago. Take the section Yun2, remembered for last year's faceplant. This year, I went flying through those dips, getting my stomach to flip up that way you get when driving a little too fast over rolling gravel roads.

It was great that Cycle Works had so many volunteers stationed all along the trail, many of them buddies of mine fresh off of completing TransIowa. I enjoyed chatting with Scott as I scampered through the rock garden, Bruce and Aaron in the gully, and others wandering from place to place throughout.

I am not posing intentionally. I am merely smiling for Kyle Hansen's camera and taking a chance to stop. Photo: Kyle Hansen

Lots of marathoners were taking big breaks in their camp chairs between laps. The heat was really brutal, with temperatures well above 90 with humidity of 90% or so. After lap 3, which had been pretty solitary, I rolled out with Rafal, who was really struggling in the heat, and my racing buddy from last year, Scott Noel. I think the Cat 1s and 2s were on course at this point, but I'm not really sure. Lap 4 involved a couple stupid crashes, and in the last third of it, even with an hour left, I was struggling with whether to go on. As I came into the feed zone, though, there were Emily & Megan, calmly pouring water over me, filling my bottles, getting me stocked up, and just very subtly preparing me for a fifth lap. "This is what having a race wife must be like," I thought.

Trying to cool off in the feed zone with a frozen water bottle. Mildly successful. Photo: Emily Hoesly

So off I went for lap 5, otherwise known as my Usher Raymond "Nice n' Slow" lap. All I had to do was finish. Mark flew by me with a huge lead in the 1s, harnessing the gnarness. I stopped to pee in the woods (this is becoming a trend in hour four...), and I slammed my way through the gully and last open section, finishing at 4 hours, 5 minutes. Last year, I did one lap less in about the same amount of time and in way less heat. 17th out of 28, 2nd in women's. Major props to Anne on the win, and to Jen Deep, cranking out 4 laps with a smile on her face til the end.

Podium style, with henna & a Ranger in a War Axe koozie. Photo: Michael McColgan

I love my bike race family. Big thanks to Corey, who found me right after I finished and brought water, beer, a veggie burger, and tons of ice water for my head. Don't think I would've eaten otherwise, as shellshocked as I felt. It really is awesome to be part of this community.

Chillin' with villains Rafal, Noah, and Megan. Photo: Emily Hoesly

Tranquility Marathon

It's Monday night, and though my recovery road ride tonight felt pretty good, my back and shoulders are still pretty beat up from Saturday's Tranquility marathon. Worth it? Oh, heck yeah!

So the weather. Let's talk about perfection. At least for Laps 1-3.5, the temps were spot on and the wind was minimal. It would, of course, have to pick up at the end. But the thing I love about singletrack riding is that even when it's windy, you're twisting and turning so much that you don't have the same sort of sustained headwinds. And considering the last time I rode at Tranquility was at last year's over-100∘ degree race day, I was fine with a little wind. And definitely fine with the upper 60s/low 70s. Particularly after the season opener at Swanson in the 90s...thank you, weather. 

Because of the morning time trial (which Marathoners were exempted from for stage race scoring purposes), all classes of racers started in waves at the same time. Marathon was sent off between two heats of Cat 2 Men, and this was excellent placing for me. I got to spend much of the first lap paced by these fast fellas, mostly quite experienced and polite passers. To many of you in this group who know my name and say it when passing me, I'm sorry if I don't always say yours back. There are so many of you!! I digress...

Photo credit: Michael McColgan

I had fun in packs of riders, fun leading out little groups or hanging on the back of them, fun riding with friends like CVO and Whitney, chatting away, and fun trying to catch people (or as Whitney puts it, chasing boys) as the laps wore on. The course is so spread out that there were lots of friends I usually see that I only caught glimpses of, including some who suffered some gnarly crashes. To the likes of Janna, heal up, and I hope to see you out there again soon. (Also, wear your helmets, people. Hers is apparently in 4 pieces after a crash.)

At the start of my 4th lap, I was feeling pretty good. I'd paced myself nicely, finishing each lap in about 50 minutes with a little refuel break after each one. This, however, messed with my lap plan reckoning. I figured if I was taking about an hour per lap, 4 laps would be just about perfect for the 4 hour marathon. Shave off 5-7 minutes each time, and I came through the start/finish 25 minutes before the time cut-off.

My decision-making moment captured. Photo credit: Michael McColgan

And I had a decision to make. If placing in the women's race was all that mattered to me, I could've stopped right there. Casey is riding like a rock star, (taking on marathon in her first season racing!), but with a course this long, she was far enough behind that she wouldn't make it before the cutoff, assuring me a 1st place in that division. However, with longer endurance events on my horizon, things like saddle time and pushing myself to go on even when I don't really know if I want to are things I need to be doing. And I had a little herd of people encouraging me to give it a go. 

I hemmed and hawed for 5 minutes before having Emily refill my water and grabbing some more food. I had the goaders-on's assurance that they'd still be there when I finished and race official Darrell's comment that I'd "already be sore, why not add a lap?" so I started turning the cranks for a relatively solitary Lap 5. I spent a chunk of time chasing Brian from EVCC, but after a sloppy move on the camel humps that had me rolling down the side of the hill, he was out of sight, and I finished alone, to the very enthusiastic cheers of the small crowd of remaining bystanders and finished racers.

4 hours, 40 minutes, 13 seconds, 46.5 miles.

Big thanks this time to teammate Emily, who, after racing and ending up on the podium (yeah, girl!) ran to the grocery store to get ice for my cooler, the one thing I managed to forget to pack. Not only that, but she stuck around long after, cheering me on and helping in the feed zone each time.

Get your week started out right

...with DR. BREAKFAST!!!

Swanson Marathon kicks off Racing2012

The idea of being "ready" for the first number pinning of the season was funny to me this time around. I suppose that taking a bunch of the nerves out of it and remembering behavior patterns associated with racing meant that I've reached the true mark of "no longer a beginner." I was mostly just excited to see my racing buddies from Omaha and elsewhere that I hadn't been around much since the end of CX season. Got most of my packing done Saturday night, enjoyed time with family, and headed up for Sunday's newly 4 hour marathon class racing.

Lining up with my chicas, Jen Deep, Chop, Mrs. Mod & me in the foreground, Emily & Carly behind us in Cat 3. Photo credit: Someone with Jen Deep's camera. CVO?

Let me say right off how absolutely excited I was Friday night to see that 21 women had pre-registered for the Swanson races. And with Jen not in the pre-regs, that made 22 or maybe even more. I think the first Psycowpath races I did 2 years ago had at best 5 or 6 women across the classes.  Unbelievable strides, and I'm so happy to be a part of it -- it makes the racing so much more fun and meaningful. There was a discussion on the Psycowpath Facebook page about the age breakouts and divisions in the men's races, and a comment was made about how you'd feel telling your family you'd gotten 4th out of 5 (versus a much larger field), and I had to laugh at the awkward podiums I had as a Cat 3 where I was 1 of....ONE. Sorry guys, not a lot of empathy. I'd much rather be 22nd of 40 (where I ended up in the mixed Marathon field --SPOILER ALERT) than 1 of 1.

Leading out the ladies of Marathon on Lap 1. Photo credit: Kyle Hansen

 With temperatures in the upper 80s and into the 90s-- crazy for April 1st & unfortunately not an April Fool's Joke -- I tried to set a mellow pace. Let the fast marathoners go ahead, get around the not-so-experienced ones, and get into a groove. Anne and I planned to have fun, after all. After some messy bottlenecks, she ended up in front, and it was up to me to decide to match her pace or stick to my own.  I knew I was faster than last year, as only a small group of Cat 3s caught me on their lap. Let them go, settle in, and then enjoy the blissful hour and a half where it's just Marathon traffic on course.

Climbing, mid-race. Photo credit: Kyle Hansen

Had a nice half-lap chatting with Matt Gersib on his warm up, and just kept going around and around, the way Swanson always makes me feel. The fun part about this course is that it's really pretty easy to see your competition a turn or two ahead, which kept me motivated to keep Anne in my sights. I also love the alphabet signage there -- as you progress through the trail, markers along the side rattle off the letters of the alphabet. One thing it made me very aware of, though, is that I was bringing my cyclocross nutrition habits to this first race. By the letter O or P, I was getting hungry. I'd try to eat enough in the feed zone, but with the heat, I wasn't feeling like eating as much as I needed to. Anita Gammel was awesome at getting my bottles refilled for me, checking in on how I was doing as she was also supporting her fella, Aaron.

Finishing Lap 5. Photo credit: Emily Hoesly

Lap for lap, I was always a bit behind Anne, increasingly so on the descents and less so on flat sections. As we entered laps 5 and 6, though, her gaps increased, and when I'd catch her, she'd be taking a break, trying to cool down. As I pulled in at the end of 6 laps, 3 hours and 19 minutes into the race, she told me it was my call whether we'd go out for another. I wanted shade, food, water, and then a decision. Unless Jen came through before 4 hours wanting another lap, we'd secured our places, and this early in the season with temperatures as hot as they were, one more lap just seemed like something that would be tedious for us and annoying to the Cat 1s still on course. We waited it out, watched Casey come through and go for one more lap to get to the 6 we were at -- you go girl!! -- and were glad Jen called it good at 3:56. Not a bad start to the season, and I'm looking forward to more!

A few signs of Spring

Today, I ate lunch outside. When I came back in to my desk, a tick -- a freakin' bloodsucking terror -- fell out of my hair, down my arm and onto my desk. The first thing I grabbed from my office environment was a pair of scissors, and I cut its head off. Just another reason they call me Grindcore.

The time change has come, and conditions for riding after work have been excellent. Grab some friends, head out and ride!

 

Then come home, make a quick dinner accompanied by beer, and enjoy your porch.

Rice, homemade vegan "sausage" from theppk.com, collards, and Dig by New Belgium Brewing

 The sunsets have been beautiful, with the added treat of enjoying the planets and the moon in the early evening.

Nothing beats crushing gravel with a couple of rad ladies. So happy they could make it for the ride!

 All in pursuit of this T-Rex.

 

And then following it with bike camping with two of your nearest and dearest, well, that's about a perfect weekend right there.

One of my non-race bike goals for 2012 was to be able to carry all my own gear for a camping trip -- Mission Accomplished. Another was learning to ride rollers, checked off in February, and tonight I unwittingly checked off a third. While taking a mellow ride through Wilderness, I successfully bunny hopped a gap in the ground under the Warlick Bridge. I've practiced bunnyhopping without obstacles, never actually applied it successfully in a situation where it was useful. Looks like it's time to come up with a few more goals...it's only March!

Oh yeah, and I finished that 10k trail run in an hour and eight minutes, 11:02 pace. Not bad for a non-runner -- I'm pretty sure that's the farthest I'd ever run in my life -- and I even had fun!

Photo: Nathan Swanson

Yep, that's me, sporting the "bike dork in a running race" look. All leg and goofy tan lines, Sheclismo pride blazing.