tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86292515266168031652024-02-07T16:54:58.823-08:00Life and BikeA little of this, a little of that.Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-38872289581315053872018-12-09T11:49:00.000-08:002018-12-09T14:11:11.775-08:00A word for today: Surrender the outcomeEvery morning I sit with God. If you're thinking, "Oh great, one of those religious weirdos..." and have already scrolled down to the next post, no worries. I already know I'm a weirdo, but I'm not religious. I'm just solid on the fact that God is God, He loves me, and I can chill out and talk to Him about whatever. <br />
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Sometimes He gives me a word. I usually keep these to myself or share them with a few, but today it is impressed upon me to share with you. So here it is, and I hope it means something to you today:<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Surrender the outcome.</b></span><br />
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You want to know how hard this is to do in my current profession as a high school special education teacher and the coach of 12 teenage girls trying to play the team sport of basketball? Lord, have mercy. Now you know why I sit with God every morning.<br />
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Every Tuesday and Friday night, I am on a sideline in a gym somewhere. Last Friday, it was at Thomas Coliseum in Haltom City, coaching the final pre-season game before we begin our two month district run. <br />
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Our junior varsity team led the whole game, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were behind because we were not playing up to our potential. We ended up losing the game by 1 point, and I was ridiculously frustrated. Not because we lost, but because we didn't play together. If you asked what my goal is for any team I coach, it's that they play together. The motto this year with this group is "play hard, play together." Those that know sports understand when you do those two things, the whole winning part usually takes care of itself. And we have had some great team victories this season.<br />
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At the end of the game, I looked around the small, square locker room at the twelve pairs of eyes staring at me, some of them briefly dropping to the cold, concrete floor in shared frustration. Sometimes I wish I could know what these inconsistent and precious and crazy and hormonal and hard-working and stumbling and cranky and funny and lovable and exasperating (ok, you get the picture) girls are thinking. Other times, I embrace the ignorance with a certain patience that comes from knowing I'm no different. Coaching is one of the greatest callings on the planet, and if you do it right, it comes at a great emotional cost.<br />
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It's worth it though. The journey is worth every bit of sacrifice, and ultimately the victories I am after are not the ones that show up on the scoreboard, but in the lives of these girls.<br />
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I cannot count how many times I wake up in the night sorting through what I should say or do, what I shouldn't have said or done. I have lost track of how many times I have pleaded with these girls to do this or that, or don't do this or that. For a competitive control freak like me, I want results, and I want them yesterday. I want to have my hands fully locked around the future and be able to speak the outcome into existence with enough cajoling and prodding and even manipulating when I get desperate. But that is an exercise in futility, so for the sake of my sanity, I'm trying to learn how to surrender. <br />
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Please tell me I'm not the only human who struggles with this around here. Odds are you are not a basketball coach, but I'm guessing you have goals and plans and things you are tempted to control. I'm assuming you are currently pouring your heart and energy into someones for something. Maybe it's into your own flesh and blood kids. Perhaps it's your job. Maybe your health is running wild and you are trying like mad to control what will happen tomorrow. Perhaps it's the unknown that is keeping you up at night.<br />
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We have all heard the saying "control the controllables," or the famous saying that goes something like, "help me change what I can, accept what I can't, and have the wisdom to know the difference."<br />
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My prayer every morning is for wisdom, but it's also for deeper trust to simply let go of my desire to control my surroundings. Heck, I can't even control my own self half the time.<br />
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So God being good as He is, often settles my soul with gentle reminders. He reminded me this week of a truth I will lean on for the next two months: surrender the outcome. Keep showing up, keep loving and leading, keep working hard toward goals, but in the end, let it be whatever it will be.<br />
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And odds are, whatever that is, will be good. Whether it is victories on the scoreboard or victories that are being sown in the future lives of some very special young ladies, I am simply thankful I get to be a part of it.<br />
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<img height="240" id="img" src="https://wallpapercave.com/wp/RXhqD7u.jpg" style="height: 413px; width: 550px;" width="320" /> Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-1736835179753157192018-05-31T19:22:00.001-07:002018-06-03T06:42:00.339-07:00Is there ever a time to quit? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And if so, how do we know?</div>
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Life is full of tough decisions. I recently wrestled my way through one and decided to share my story with the hopes it might help someone else facing a similar decision. </div>
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In the spring of 2017, right before I was <a href="https://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2017/07/shaking-fist-at-mortality.html">shaking a fist at mortality</a> you might recall, I was also posting videos and boastful comments about potentially racing around the nation and raising money for the non-profit organization <a href="https://worldbicyclerelief.org/en/">World Bicycle Relief.</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8w4Z404fielzEDvU5daCt5CjaG6DgOJ1xTZfrMxd11-5UTJZmBKWXd1ehJH__7juHqy8XOdqjFrjaWsSA7gqb5Tr4v_25VHzUCbwlII3rY4gUMWGspBHatcNCbG3m1Jd-nLjItlwWscI/s1600/fullsizeoutput_c7e.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1472" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8w4Z404fielzEDvU5daCt5CjaG6DgOJ1xTZfrMxd11-5UTJZmBKWXd1ehJH__7juHqy8XOdqjFrjaWsSA7gqb5Tr4v_25VHzUCbwlII3rY4gUMWGspBHatcNCbG3m1Jd-nLjItlwWscI/s320/fullsizeoutput_c7e.jpeg" width="294" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posing with my Julianna Roubion, the perfect enduro rig.</td></tr>
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I'll admit, I was mentally struggling after my fourth knee surgery knocked me on my butt. My health is a resource I value highly and I kind of freak out when this resource is threatened.<br />
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I was desperate for something to snap me out of my funk. Goals have done this for me before, so I decided to try it again.<br />
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I had dabbled in an up-and-coming race discipline called enduro. It requires more technical ability, mental focus, and nerve than steady speed, so I figured I might be good at it. Comments about the dangers of it, however, made me wonder how much of a gamble it would be. I figured I would have to see for myself.<br />
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By April of 2017, my husband and I had donated a few bikes to World Bicyle Relief and were learning more about the organization. When I learned anyone could join Team WBR as an ambassador, I found the greater cause I was looking for and resolutely set my goal:<br />
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To race the <a href="http://www.kodiaktough.com/">Kodiak Tough</a> enduro series the following spring (2018), then race the National Enduro Series over the summer, all as an ambassador for World Bicycle Relief. I understood the goal would be expensive in time, energy, money, and maybe health. Nevertheless, I
did my best to think through the cost before I made my commitment. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnVc-GYl9HiTcbYroM7cyxrxNkrXBHqbKFjyPHuA7vwWOMOon5yoY0qPVSUqyHLlgNZEKdvnR2eKDaX2FPTuw7xLx58jaKEH64oiwsk-EpQkz8PB41_M4GGGfiNp09cAMJSYcSopBuXY/s640/lovit+enduro.jpg" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking through a turn during one of the Stages of the Lovit enduro race.</td></tr>
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I contacted <a href="https://www.julianabicycles.com/en/us">Julianna bicycles</a> about their ambassadorship program, got my bike and gear in order with the help of <a href="https://bicyclesinc.com/">Bicycles Inc.</a>, joined Team WBR, checked the regional and national enduro series calendars, set my training schedule, and locked in. As we do with all goals, I began to work hard to make it happen. By the time spring 2018 rolled around, the plan was unfolding. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDsLOI8L5laY_yoXEsVSwSLTepjEHl9D2aa8w0KRKfADszDIWVNxJR2-EFer-s7FoZFuz1Y7IjDp2ZNz8iwzifer-JKX1cJ-TGpJf60iGUB3FYKl71r_Ai5OchYPsyOaJ0TLJd0QtIGo/s400/podium.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Far left: 4th place finish in the pro women's field with $100 prize money.</td></tr>
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In my first race of the series, I traveled to the Arkansas back country and experienced my first true enduro weekend. In the pro women's field, I landed on the podium, less than 10 seconds away from 2nd place. <br />
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At this point, from the outside looking in, it would seem all the pieces were falling into place. Over 30 bikes had been donated to World Bicycle Relief and I felt I had the racing potential to achieve my goal. I was feeling so good about it all I decided to increase the stakes.<br />
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My redefined goal was to finish in the top 3 overall for the region and get 100 bikes donated through the #WBRenduro campaign. The new hashtag became #100in2018.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Re-Assessing my resources</span><br />
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On the long drive home from Arkansas, a certain heaviness came over me out of nowhere. Part of it was the fatigue that had built up from my job as a teacher and coach (we finished basketball season the Monday before the race), training, promoting WBR, and not sleeping for two days because the air mattress I brought had a leak. But part of it was the reality of what enduro racing was actually going to cost me. Up until this trip, I could only guess. Now I knew. And it was time to revisit my balance sheet.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Time.</i></span><br />
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I had departed Texas on a Thursday morning and arrived back home on a Sunday night. The trip cost me four days away from home and two days of personal vacation at work. And there were four races left of the series. One of the weekends was Easter, and family would be in town visiting. I was missing my husband, missing my students and athletes at school, and missing family. The tipping point was getting close, but I could still justify it all in my head by thinking of all the lives and families that were being changed in Africa and South America because they were receiving their new bikes.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Money.</span></i><br />
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My expenses included the race entry fee, gas, hotel, cabin, bike gear, and food. I was okay with these expenditures because I consider a race weekend a mini-vacation and budget for it accordingly. But when I began thinking about racing for months around the nation, I realized it would cost a small fortune. Nonetheless, I didn't worry with this. I had learned from my <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2015/01/leadville-100-mtb-training-plan.html">Leadville 100</a> race experience that if it is supposed to happen, God will provide. (The only thing I had to pay for on my week long trip to Colorado for that race was the entry fee. A friend was going whose company paid for her gas, hotel, and most of her food. She had told me if I qualified for the race, I was welcome to tag along for the ride.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQFrjQKKZLgXxf4YcO4Xor6jDMd3H7RscRN_mBYaWHZQfDXJ2y8XylRjy62OF3H57qsatrmDBKos0eYUa6vXdEwiSkAb1W3AgCod1P6W4E6jGsdwHZKzlrqg78pDw8VwWz0e68ssD5NU/s1600/enduro.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQFrjQKKZLgXxf4YcO4Xor6jDMd3H7RscRN_mBYaWHZQfDXJ2y8XylRjy62OF3H57qsatrmDBKos0eYUa6vXdEwiSkAb1W3AgCod1P6W4E6jGsdwHZKzlrqg78pDw8VwWz0e68ssD5NU/s400/enduro.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Navigating a rock garden at Camp Eagle.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>The next race of the series was in the hill country of Texas at <a href="http://campeagle.org/">Camp Eagle</a>. I have always wanted to visit this remote gem, so again, I looked at the trip as a vacation.<br />
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Little did I know I was about to pay for the gamble on my health.<br />
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On the final stage of day 1, aptly named "Screaming Eagle," I misjudged my downhill speed going over a rock drop. I actually slowed down too much, anticipating the small ledge I had easily soared over the day before during my intense three hour pre-ride of all 10 stages.<br />
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My right shoulder struck the ground and then my head. My full-face helmet saved my skull, but the impact to my shoulder did some damage. I was able to scramble down the rest of the stage, but I knew immediately my race was over. During the return ride back to camp, with my shoulder in shock, I took a harder look at the potential cost of this dream I was chasing.<br />
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In all my years of mountain bike racing, I had never had a serious wreck
during a race, in fact, I can only remember coming off my bike a few times. Now, I was two for two. I also crashed in Arkansas, but it
did not result in injury even though I similarly went over my bars and broke the visor on my helmet. Enduro races are decided by a matter of seconds, so the line between competing and staying safe is incredibly blurry. It was for me, anyway.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK72EXZ4K-8T4HStgQV97xAhjtMBH0HghoJy6LMWcrTPRPTCFpznVSfWK0yA6my3ojj9o6HjevNe2MvKAvjj-wvsxG6uEX_SXB3Ymj3XDNeVPOjOXNHVqziZ5qmrciIg13aD0AMRWwM6Y/s1600/40710722511_526424b479_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK72EXZ4K-8T4HStgQV97xAhjtMBH0HghoJy6LMWcrTPRPTCFpznVSfWK0yA6my3ojj9o6HjevNe2MvKAvjj-wvsxG6uEX_SXB3Ymj3XDNeVPOjOXNHVqziZ5qmrciIg13aD0AMRWwM6Y/s640/40710722511_526424b479_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike Cartier captured this shot minutes after my wreck. I am favoring my right shoulder and am upset because I had to quit a race for the first time ever. But the real angst on my face is from my inner wrestling with my decision to quit for good. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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After being assessed by the Camp Eagle staff, I drove an hour to the emergency room in Junction ($412), scheduled a follow-up visit to my orthopedic surgeon ($80), and was lucky the diagnosis was only a bad sprain that would heal up in a month or two.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHUFCrER6iofCdGvcKiNN3lmzVY_Kz1r2W0EpoVShhZyay0TgIMZi6IraSv3QVl5mTPiOlUsAKQLXiTEDI2W2I7sBHAWRknRAlkJCD6LHBThaqNditpY02m3ppG3pibiMIBrQ7qmUwfQ/s1600/IMG_6115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHUFCrER6iofCdGvcKiNN3lmzVY_Kz1r2W0EpoVShhZyay0TgIMZi6IraSv3QVl5mTPiOlUsAKQLXiTEDI2W2I7sBHAWRknRAlkJCD6LHBThaqNditpY02m3ppG3pibiMIBrQ7qmUwfQ/s320/IMG_6115.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
That was it for me. <br />
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The sacrifices of money and energy were hard, the sacrifice away from home even harder. But once I realized I could be one wreck away from not walking away, I decided the cost was more than I was willing to pay. <br />
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Even though I knew deep inside that my mind was made up, I still struggled to quit. My biggest question was, "What about racing for World Bicycle Relief?"<br />
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For reasons I cannot explain, except that I love the enduro community and was fighting against stepping away from them, I posted some lingering dreamy thoughts like "hopefully I will be healed up for the next race" and "can't wait to get back to #WBRenduro." But these statements were false. I knew the time had come to let go.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What happens after we quit? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is normal to have feelings of loss after we let go of a goal.</span></span> There are friendships we might miss and certain feelings of accomplishment we might lose (I was regularly being called a bad*ss during the months I was training and racing. Who doesn't want to be called that?) But when we make the right decision to step away, a certain peace settles on us. <br />
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We are always free in life to re-define current goals and chase new ones. Maybe I'm going through a mid-life crisis of sorts, but it seems my focus is turning more and more to my role as an educator and less of a bike racer, but don't worry! You can still find me on my bike...<br />
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...enjoying the camaraderie of the cycling community (even though I can't take a selfie to save my life...)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBNskr4r7iyDUvXkJuJhp-tq9f49GvrxVwn9FuLzcN7E67UBdiueqme8evB3msK-Pzl3nBEbHvhGx9wf39MvUe7UQ8VCx8dLhApMiY0VS2dwdBTz3dztCUOaEoixO7ZpEx2RXDO_HFmAU/s1600/IMG_6249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBNskr4r7iyDUvXkJuJhp-tq9f49GvrxVwn9FuLzcN7E67UBdiueqme8evB3msK-Pzl3nBEbHvhGx9wf39MvUe7UQ8VCx8dLhApMiY0VS2dwdBTz3dztCUOaEoixO7ZpEx2RXDO_HFmAU/s640/IMG_6249.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
...riding my Julianna Roubion over rocks and drops...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwXtg54oXrB6Vlc-MbydcBL3kAy3yHY3MryFBAUQvo3d_AkCkDPQYbPcSQhamMHlkB5EfR8LuXr3oGXB5HwmDuXillA-9H99tJZOv0M_SXCT_TvsTD8HAffRwy2Eipmx6YbEO641nV14/s1600/IMG_6241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwXtg54oXrB6Vlc-MbydcBL3kAy3yHY3MryFBAUQvo3d_AkCkDPQYbPcSQhamMHlkB5EfR8LuXr3oGXB5HwmDuXillA-9H99tJZOv0M_SXCT_TvsTD8HAffRwy2Eipmx6YbEO641nV14/s320/IMG_6241.JPG" width="240" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/MfbDEP3E29g/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MfbDEP3E29g?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
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<br />
...exploring new trails in life...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNEQL5Ulv31m-vjNMtZikV3ZQOcWgLuIylfFgITW3Q4xwV_ExPF_bAQu9NlSvS8iUb2FAfWhWRg4JYQKQVGkqoDuX43bElwsKy1ZRz4wLlRKKMoyVfmzdHIrwtR9TlhOXqIr3PSzfTVc/s1600/IMG_6240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrNEQL5Ulv31m-vjNMtZikV3ZQOcWgLuIylfFgITW3Q4xwV_ExPF_bAQu9NlSvS8iUb2FAfWhWRg4JYQKQVGkqoDuX43bElwsKy1ZRz4wLlRKKMoyVfmzdHIrwtR9TlhOXqIr3PSzfTVc/s320/IMG_6240.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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...and promoting the work of World Bicycle Relief. By the way, the goal of reaching 100 bikes donated and 100 lives changed is still alive and well!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlYYt_hJiP0S5Y4IvC-uIQ32Tnmg87GqGsnZnpClo7xPZdlcIVoS_tqppaPaZu1Ybq8nFMNpknWfkf3thi6BPKyC_Uz7TH1xdxaeNOl8e-k_mhYxWvFGFXhYcpqr6SseJzh3znf3b52M/s1600/world-bicycle-relief-2-1000x666.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="1000" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlYYt_hJiP0S5Y4IvC-uIQ32Tnmg87GqGsnZnpClo7xPZdlcIVoS_tqppaPaZu1Ybq8nFMNpknWfkf3thi6BPKyC_Uz7TH1xdxaeNOl8e-k_mhYxWvFGFXhYcpqr6SseJzh3znf3b52M/s200/world-bicycle-relief-2-1000x666.jpeg" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRmsPuGytwPRAIGDF_2pkjSZv-E-irL1zeUB8jLLmds6Kk1pT6A3Sa9wVOiJGLz1VMDYIws4dN-JmQB6w_RRmYXGxk33LgTy43s6wV_QwipidkTnsDC8esGd1N_8JwLyJsrLGBqRpKL8/s1600/slezak-wbr-zambia-0950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRmsPuGytwPRAIGDF_2pkjSZv-E-irL1zeUB8jLLmds6Kk1pT6A3Sa9wVOiJGLz1VMDYIws4dN-JmQB6w_RRmYXGxk33LgTy43s6wV_QwipidkTnsDC8esGd1N_8JwLyJsrLGBqRpKL8/s400/slezak-wbr-zambia-0950.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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If you want to learn more about #TeamWBR or how you can bless someone with a bike, click on the icon below. <br />
<a href="http://teamwbr.worldbicyclerelief.org/BrendaAndress"><img alt="http://teamwbr.worldbicyclerelief.org/BrendaAndress" border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="300" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6GnRBkh6Ynauprp-p1lICKK02DOgqWdPGB7RCkDawxjyeOwxD6RVlNdntujSnKXVNWM1eg_jxFOmfemZA-ClmapsQZ9Gef9TajNXTN4IbK6gVuPUOSA-hsqnouUgeP9AnEshWHukJd8w/s200/logo_world_bicycle_relief.png" width="200" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What about you? </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i> How do you know when to press on and when to pull the plug on a dream or goal?</i></span><br />
<br />
Even though you just read a story about quitting, more often than not the right answer is to keep going. Maybe you are
thinking about quitting on a commitment you made or are second guessing a
goal you have set, but are paralyzed by uncertainty or fear of regret.
Obviously, no one can make the decision for you, but I hope by reading the 7 ideas below, you will find clarity for your next step.<br />
<br />
By
the way, everything you are about to read, you have probably already heard. In
fact, there is a good chance if we are friends, I learned some of it
directly from you. Even so, we can keep reminding each other as we
journey through this adventurous life together. To credit the proper sources
for where I found the following information: maybe you, definitely life,
of course the bike, and a bunch of the Bible (the best guideline for
living I've found!).<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>1. Failure is rarely a sign you should quit. </b></span><br />
<br />
On
the path to your dreams, you will fail. Believe me, I failed numerous times on my enduro journey, but that had nothing to do with why I quit. When failure does happen, you might as well accept the fact, drop your pride, get over it, and get moving again. Easier said
than done, I realize, especially with repeated failures. But if we use
failures as lessons and make it a point to learn from our mistakes, then
we can actually use failure as fuel to propel us even further than we could go before. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2. Do not misinterpret hardship as a sign to quit.</b></span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbD6gnm5UvKGN6b22eYmMRIIaVMbINXBAkmJOjWaBN7A_id4PtC1J-mxhdl3SDE3YNcaW8ptH7uPQTeya1eBfRc_1QVJRUiD_RnXx1VL0gx46qkrV5uX5iBNfegnblmcGZSeO8XqqbSo/s1600/pushing+rock.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="374" data-original-width="613" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGbD6gnm5UvKGN6b22eYmMRIIaVMbINXBAkmJOjWaBN7A_id4PtC1J-mxhdl3SDE3YNcaW8ptH7uPQTeya1eBfRc_1QVJRUiD_RnXx1VL0gx46qkrV5uX5iBNfegnblmcGZSeO8XqqbSo/s200/pushing+rock.jpg" width="200" /></a>Nothing
can sap your energy and make you want to quit like extreme
difficulties, but this is not a reason to stop pushing. In fact, it is probably a sign you are on the right track.<br />
<br />
But be careful here. In a second you are going to read that a lack of resources is a strong sign you <i>should </i>quit. What's the difference? The impact the goal has on your (or others) life. We can agree there are some goals we will never quit on, no matter what the cost. But some goals, ones of lesser priority in the grand scheme, may only be taking energy away from the more important ones. <br />
<br />
So if you are chasing a goal that you know is worth the cost and the path suddenly fills with obstacles, don't quit!<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span><i><span style="font-size: large;">Many times hardships give us the
strength we need to do what we need to do when we get to where we want
to get.</span></i> (You might have to read that one again.) Life will not be over
once you accomplish your goal. Maybe the hardship you are enduring now
is preparing you for the mission that lies ahead.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>3. Every goal comes with a price tag, and the payments we make to advance
toward our goals are made with limited personal resources. </b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
If
you were wondering when I was going to get to the quitting part, here
it is. We are all given currency to spend in life. Four forms of this
currency are time, energy, money, and health. Our goals and priorities
determine how much of each we are willing to spend.<br />
<br />
One
of the best ways to know when it is time to quit on your dream or goal
is to take a detailed look at your "personal finances." Before you can
make a wise decision, you have to know the answer to these two
questions:<i> How much am I willing to spend? </i>and, <i>What am I willing to sacrifice? </i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">When
the cost exceeds what you are willing to pay, it is time to quit. If
your other top priorities are suffering because you are regularly
running out of resources to afford them, then it is time to quit. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
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<a href="http://bobgoff.com/"><img alt="http://bobgoff.com/" border="0" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="640" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLzJvFzriCOJTaIaY5QvP-wCz1wk5gFALnbNbG5oDr2NwSkrbWYbwWaNyCyOJmh7daeWeotLYOU3urVIIQcXlOmfxDPPfmM3ydPFaxOKAtCq5_pFjnssQ9fKK0BQfA1bWs73mHnvM4Ok/s400/Screenshot-2018-5-24+Bob+Goff+on+Twitter.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> 4. Everyone's currency has a different exchange rate. </b></span><br />
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So
don't bother comparing yourself. What is a waste of time, energy, and
money for one individual might be another's greatest investment. Don't
judge others. And don't worry if others don't understand how you spend
your resources. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>5. There are always hidden fees. </b></span><br />
<br />
When
you are considering the cost before making a commitment, understand you
will never know the full price up front. The balance sheet is rarely
presented in full and the
payments continue the whole time you are working toward your goals.
Sometimes, price tags change without notice. Along the path to our
goals, we must continually
re-evaluate the cost. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>6. It's okay to redefine your goals along the way.</b></span><br />
<br />
There
are numerous ways to make adjustments to our goals and refinance our
dreams so that our resources match our budget. Keeping our priorities straight takes constant work. If our goals pull these out of balance, then we must examine them closely. See if you can separate the goal to keep the important part and let the rest go before you totally quit on your dream.<br />
<br />
And finally,<br />
<br />
<b> </b><span style="font-size: large;"><b> 7. Make sure you are chasing the right dream</b>.</span><br />
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<a href="http://crazylove.org/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="http://crazylove.org/" border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2LA29B_mq6d4eVX8V504w_8eZLh2e5HCSyzR5e0nP7RB0olxNpKB-T1DpKbJv3ca24VaqZ-cK-kHW9c7Q5ACM2WYY6qASEdYVNWDwqfLbAHek7umHE49lvZZBAMy9tfbGPMb-nhGUKEY/s320/chan.png" width="320" /></a></div>
How do we know if we are chasing the right dream?<br />
<br />
This
answer may be too simple, but here is what I have found: If your goal
involves satisfying only you, then you will ultimately be disappointed.<br />
<br />
But if your goal involves loving and helping others, you will end up being satisfied.<br />
<br />
Does
this mean personal goals are bad? I don't think so. If they help you be
a better version of you so you can love and serve others, then go get
it. Just keep a close eye on your resources. If the cost begins to
exceed what you are willing to pay, then don't be afraid to quit.<br />
<br />
There will always be a new goal waiting ahead. <br />
<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-66947545886908102842017-07-18T12:23:00.000-07:002017-07-18T12:32:01.856-07:00Shaking a Fist at MortalityI broke the law once. I picked a wildflower. It was too tempting not to, plus I was a child and didn't know any better until my grandmother, with her wildflower book clutched in hand, scolded me.<br />
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It was purple and magnificent. Why it was illegal to pluck such beauty, to smell and touch and inspect and give it away to maternal figures for a flicker of enjoyment...I didn't understand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5x-CDjkMedJqDZDX8QzzxZfX09N8qFrnnvpmd5ayV3qIDc2009gexmDidUNTEWphGeKTwK0H2lxP3onwUSoE-24QPzvk2uOW7ehBHUGr_oS6ECCo5BY_g3Pr0TpHP_M3OpllzGRXAKuc/s1600/IMG_2678.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5x-CDjkMedJqDZDX8QzzxZfX09N8qFrnnvpmd5ayV3qIDc2009gexmDidUNTEWphGeKTwK0H2lxP3onwUSoE-24QPzvk2uOW7ehBHUGr_oS6ECCo5BY_g3Pr0TpHP_M3OpllzGRXAKuc/s320/IMG_2678.JPG" width="240" /></a>I swirled the flower in my hand, the green straw bending beneath the weight of my gentle and dirty fingers. With the violet pedals tickling my nose, I looked at the patch of ground from whence the flower came, and marveled at the army of flowers remaining unscathed in the earth. As the grime from my hands wilted the flower, my grandmother's wisdom became clear. I knew then and there why you don't pick wildflowers. Once they are born from the ground and clutched by life's hands, their vibrance and sweetness begin to perish.<br />
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Today I feel like a freshly plucked flower.<br />
<br />
<br />
My attempts at sounding poetic and analogous are over.<br />
Here is the real story.<br />
<br />
I went to a doctor yesterday to get one final check-up on my left knee. About four months ago, a different doctor operated on it and took out a chunk of the precious cushion that helps me get along well in my livelihood as a teacher and coach and as a die-hard mountain biker. In some regards, the surgery was a "success." I have recovered well enough to hammer up and down and over the mountains of Colorado. But my knee aches. Standing all day or walking for long periods of time wears me down mentally as I feel unstable on my inflamed joint and wonder if I should seek sponsorship with Aleve.<br />
<br />
I was hoping yesterday, as the physician performed the final test for worker's comp, that he would give me good news and say, "your knee is going to ache some, but it should still get better, just give it time" and "keep doing whatever it is you are doing" (meaning hammering it out on the mountain bike). I was hoping to get some fresh news that would perk me back up like rain on a dusty and parched wildflower. I was hoping for the news that the best days of riding hard and living crazy adventures on two wheels are ahead of me, so I could once again throw my shoulders back with pride and stand tall in the sun.<br />
<br />
But that didn't happen. Instead I was told "rules change with every decade of life" and "if you keep riding the way you are riding, you are headed for a knee replacement." Apparently, even though cycling is one of the best things you can do for bad knees, cycling still wears out the knees. Especially my kind of "cycling." When I decide I am training for something, in my present case enduro racing, I place a high demand on my body.<br />
<br />
I have always been wired this way. Would I eliminate basketball from the annals of my life if it meant my present-day knees were surgery free and strong? Nope. The part of me that aims to live my life to the fullest and live each day like it could be my last says it was worth it.<br />
<br />
Will I jump in a scrimmage again if the opportunity presents itself? Nope. The part of me that desires to live a good life for as long as possible now says it isn't worth it anymore. It only took four knee surgeries to get me to that point. It is with this level of stubbornness that I tried to digest the evil epiphany that cycling might be damaging my knees, not preserving them. <br />
<br />
The 56-year-old in scrubs attempted to lead my thoughts by personal stories of graceful change. He used to run marathons, but in his twenties he quit running. After his thirties, he gave up cycling. Not tracking with him in the least, I finally asked him, "So what do you do for exercise?" His reply: "Walk."<br />
<br />
That's when my emotions began to short-circuit. I looked him square in the eye and said, "I would rather have a double knee replacement than not be able to ride my bike." His response included something about hobbling around for the rest of my life.<br />
<br />
Before you hate on him like I did, I genuinely believe he was trying to guide me to a path of growing old gracefully. I did not respond with "well, I have friends who have had knee replacements and still ride" or an alternative rude and defensive response like my emotions were dictating. Rather, I awkwardly stared at him and mentally shut him off from speaking any further advice into my life.<br />
<br />
That was that. He was done testing everything on my knee (which is 100% according to the strength, motion, and bending it all around tests) and let me know he had another patient to see. The tears that had welled up began to leak as he exited the room and I fumbled my way out the front door.<br />
<br />
By the time I turned out of the parking lot onto the access road, I was wailing loudly. The words "stop riding your bike" echoed in my soul. I'm 38 freaking years old and I was just advised to take up walking. I haven't bawled that much since my dog died two years ago.<br />
<br />
When the dry heaves stopped and my puffy eyes dried, I tried to process everything. I fought to mitigate the statement "you are wearing out your joints" with reason and common sense and perhaps some rationalizing. My other doctor told me riding was good, but I'm sure he was imaging a stationary bike or a mild cruise down a smooth path. This doctor seemed familiar with my very different definition of "riding" with the addition of the words "competing" and "mountain."<br />
<br />
I tried to lay emotion aside and hear the message. "Slow down. Make some changes. Accept the fact that your body is aging." Getting angry at the truth is not productive. But I am a creature full of strong emotion, which is why I ride in the first place. The root of my anger is ultimately fear. What is my greatest fear in life? It is to lose my physical ability. Why? Because I have believed for so long my mental well-being is directly tied to my ability to push myself physically. (That's a whole other story. If you're a glutton for punishment, you can read about that too in "my own story of life and bike" at the top of this blog.)<br />
<br />
It took me the entire day to process the simple doctor's visit. After falling on my face before the Lord, crying more tears, and holding conversations with those I trust, this morning when I awoke, an overwhelming peace about my mortality began to rise up within me. Yet again in life, God's gentle grace is carrying me. In the times of greatest anguish, my savior and friend stands by my side and holds me. As I have said many times, I cannot explain faith as clear as I wish I could, but I will say with all of me that God's love for us is real. His wisdom trumps all others. Because he knows suffering better than any, He draws near every time my heart is broken and offers healing.<br />
<br />
He reminds me, most importantly, as I age incredibly ungracefully, that this world is not my home. This body is indeed perishing. This flower has been plucked and, even if I stick my aching legs in a cold vase and preserve myself a little longer, I will still fade away. <br />
<br />
But don't worry, my hope is eternal and my joy is getting stronger even as my body is getting weaker. To my friends who say Christian ideals are merely tranquilizers meant to make us feel better, let me say a word. You're exactly right. The truth of God does make me feel better. What is truly depressing is to think the best days are forever behind me. With God, my best days, even if it means hobbling around on some fake knees because I didn't listen to the doctor's advice and rode my bike anyway, are still ahead. Not to mention that as I have moved through the different seasons of life, God has always provided some wildly fun adventures. God wants to give us life to the fullest even in this temporary one that is decaying, and I will trust He still has good things in store for as many days as I'm here.<br />
<br />
This whole thing really isn't even about bikes, it's about the reality of mortality. I'm going to assume you, at some point, have stared a doctor in the face (or stared at an aging face in the mirror) and felt the same punch in the gut I did yesterday. I'm also going to assume you fought back, or are fighting back like I am, with whatever resources remain and are shaking a fist at mortality.<br />
<br />
We are all clutching onto life and remaining brave survivors for as long as we can. We are all trying to bloom bright and beautiful for as long as possible. But avoiding the truth is not productive. So before we wither for good, as we undeniably will, my prayer is we find the eternal hope that is found in Christ alone.<br />
<br />
Wanna know what my soul ate for breakfast this morning? I happened to turn to I Corinthians 15.<br />
<br />
<i>"So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown in a natural body, it is raised in a spiritual body." </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed - in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: Death has been swallowed up in victory. 'Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death is your sting?'"</i><br />
<br />
I think I'll go ride my bike now. <br />
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<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-45671148490380344792016-06-27T20:41:00.003-07:002017-05-22T10:56:03.812-07:00Dirt Side Sisters #getmorewomenriding! <span style="font-size: large;">Who are the <a href="https://dirtsidesisters.wildapricot.org/">Dirt Side Sisters</a>? I'm glad you asked! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Teaching the essential and fundamental skills of mountain biking in a fun and safe, learning environment" to </span><br />
<img alt="#getmorewomenriding" border="0" class="artText" height="63" src="https://dirtsidesisters.wildapricot.org/Content/ArtText/89711.png?text=%23getmorewomenriding&style=Site%20title%201&styleGroup=100&fn=PT%20Sans&fs=40&sid=2002591725167211" title="#getmorewomenriding" width="626" /><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">is what we are all about! </span></div>
<br />
Every Wednesday evening, from April through October, you can find a group of female mountain bikers at different locations around the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex riding their bikes together.<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uCzwXHUHFOEkyWPLc0lTr5yRUfz3lYMN9cBdvcFSLmUe3ViCbwpDCuXSIufO5NaglPQv7MrtsYIAjHZbVU8upnsFgEfl2P8vGQMmPr9J7EMClJ-WBrq9bq2iDL5cL9-46HTmQBCwdfk/s400/IMG_3628.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lining up the bikes at Grapevine Craft Brewery</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFE4x_sA8_0Qi1Sln3U3yhiIzRoAnyyMSvK3UEW2sennhjpG6qyeb-S4yQLPayVZGJ1uuIDUtTrSwWszlxE79BgvSW1I8juWX4CJeKyK_fae_DjmPJt-1uKLE7t_k-mLNYx4HgA4DqmWk/s1600/IMG_3630.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFE4x_sA8_0Qi1Sln3U3yhiIzRoAnyyMSvK3UEW2sennhjpG6qyeb-S4yQLPayVZGJ1uuIDUtTrSwWszlxE79BgvSW1I8juWX4CJeKyK_fae_DjmPJt-1uKLE7t_k-mLNYx4HgA4DqmWk/s400/IMG_3630.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cruising around Grapevine lake.</td></tr>
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The
vision cast over three years ago to "get more women riding,"
specifically riding mountain bikes, has become a reality. To learn more
about the roots of the organization and what we are all about, check us
out on our <a href="https://dirtsidesisters.wildapricot.org/">website</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DirtSideSisters/">facebook</a>. <br />
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The
first ride of 2016 took place in Grapevine. After greetings and bike
checks, we cruised down Main Street, then hit the paved trail around the
Grapevine Lake. Even though the dirt trails were closed, we still rolled on.<br />
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<img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJ_BFbuIwo_Zs1ID_tFgNyIaaNeuRChCTYACRp6aslScLnNkzGH1-n9AmvAUMJmNa0SC9Ig5E7ar3lTmVIOH_WB2gP2OKWHAaur1m09lhLu8kZH-xPZoxh8rjf0v-44wNhs6YQJHb70A/s640/IMG_3633.JPG" width="640" /></div>
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Micah mastering clipless pedals.</div>
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Our second ride started and ended at Bliss Cupcakes, one of our many wonderful sponsors. </div>
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Part of the Dirt Side Sisters' mission is to provide women with opportunities to learn and practice mountain biking skills. Our first "Foundations" clinic was held at Rowlett Creek Preserve.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="480" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13240519_1411739992184996_1261439003845216171_n.jpg?oh=83b595b6cdc0de0317aed4857d4a8e1b&oe=580E6720" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lynn in a perfect "ready" position.</td></tr>
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After some skills practice, the ladies take a refreshment break.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcr_nR7VW4pnAjiewTp9ouVMr4TJu1LHgyNjKASOSP1R6SdkR-BKNVR3yhz2tz4Sdp7hXv3M85HmVlUMrz1qTqy2nUHdZ3HFGNX48NUviPE34bEkarWM4-bpKOa2kQl4XuJ0iYlmBhxxY/s1600/IMG_3752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcr_nR7VW4pnAjiewTp9ouVMr4TJu1LHgyNjKASOSP1R6SdkR-BKNVR3yhz2tz4Sdp7hXv3M85HmVlUMrz1qTqy2nUHdZ3HFGNX48NUviPE34bEkarWM4-bpKOa2kQl4XuJ0iYlmBhxxY/s640/IMG_3752.jpg" width="640" /></a> Lorinda demonstrates how to properly wash a bike.<br />
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After contending with rain and slowly drying trails, DSS finally took to the dirt in June!! The sisters met at one of the favorite spots in the DFW Metroplex, Northshore Trail in Grapevine.<br />
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Lisa preps the group. <br />
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Mallory "Trailblazer" crosses the creek at Northshore.<br />
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<img alt="" class="spotlight" height="480" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13307250_1414041728621489_2176114038147979767_n.jpg?oh=abdb95860c8ae28357750a174bceb7ff&oe=58061B69" width="640" /><br />
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The Sisters held a free basic bike maintenance clinic one Wednesday evening in place of the group ride. Ladies enjoyed some free drinks at Grapevine Brewery while the birthday girl explained the working of the drive train.<br />
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The following week, we were back to dirt!<br />
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<img alt="" class="spotlight" height="541" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13529007_1438889699470025_3764658135210319609_n.jpg?oh=d0c6c3ed11a23479dd9b10c498022f45&oe=5806F214" width="640" /><br />
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Cedar Hill State Park was a big hit.</div>
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<img alt="" class="spotlight" height="546" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13438784_10100384428195244_4278396788585475592_n.jpg?oh=172583b11e10f26953dfcd87ac2976a4&oe=57FB8AE2" width="640" /> <br />
Diana and Candace make time for a selfie.<br />
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As the 2016 season continues on, we hope you will join us to #getmorewomenriding! </div>
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And now a few random pictures from crazy ride leaders: Kelly, Lisa, Lorinda, Brenda, and Heidi...<br />
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<img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6h7A0rJvrRYY8vF8SxBwE9z6dW6dy2eW2y9KtzJQrky-6Jp8WRrmKYbMpx3O5QQRDH_g69IGjywLyzPpqKoypyOQ00J36YWylf_qYYuKuamOPiXQpp3CgW1855ZNixf_lhSBQi3oFYgg/s640/IMG_3609.JPG" width="640" /><br />
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmM1rL49Fhu2NW67OI44hjoYVKJAPqQuoKIIrz57vl89VVp1o5DxH008Z-MuclL8tyESoSyUjEcUABPZsJkQz32SqFnUNC-9kzskc9Vpjg0J6kQ-ZT3BmM9SNvzy8T7UwgSDQMA-2yhac/s400/IMG_3592.jpg" width="300" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="311" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13427767_1432680246757637_20334443986168774_n.jpg?oh=d2cceacf8827902078c838cb15842b32&oe=5802256E" width="320" /><br />
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<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikIHf-SjHVjOc_a2cBqu24t1pvqppTx5cAbOn9RDRX5mhchz4r-YhJy4b15BxKh1XZJFR6KfC6ReJyiHERMrssW0aimncXt8WlQlEi0TMb5nZtEbnn31Ekj9mwle4FG71WpV2zodaVRXY/s320/IMG_3625.jpg" width="240" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="240" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13466095_1432680300090965_3026348766919398798_n.jpg?oh=1d878172dd0e89952946e73c11f9be7a&oe=580CC1CE" width="320" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="520" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13413657_1432680460090949_2017852275761022688_n.jpg?oh=c1f505b492ba597fb41ef3a3339eb64b&oe=57F45151" width="640" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="240" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13062250_1389653104393685_6978423221883433146_n.jpg?oh=06d867dee53362d773092df201a733ad&oe=5806F1AF" width="320" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="248" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13124589_1395639320461730_5520459748646807098_n.jpg?oh=b2f8e9d45c5492c6593b293a1e38c4a5&oe=58041F15" width="320" /><br />
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<img alt="" class="spotlight" height="240" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/12990925_10154025282320856_5020203362589268185_n.jpg?oh=edae04d81ab229715a07a955a3a71345&oe=57FA8A25" width="320" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="240" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13173952_1395639367128392_477049303124337945_n.jpg?oh=21e84013c74eb6dc647104fd78c502d2&oe=58043DB4" width="320" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="539" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/13240037_10156925116825383_3137955645275732700_n.jpg?oh=673dbf1475be8da06cf1a6d733bb1d9a&oe=57F8D29C" width="640" /><img alt="" class="spotlight" height="400" src="https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-0/p480x480/13043448_10100355442732344_3857755715571884942_n.jpg?oh=d8ae07840f8b73bc7e51d72de49fc36c&oe=57EBB91A" style="height: 561px; width: 561px;" width="400" />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-87593292990266326392016-02-06T14:30:00.002-08:002016-02-06T14:47:10.453-08:00My yearly random post...<div style="text-align: left;">
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Well, after a full year of randomness (working on a book that might get done when I turn 70, working at a bicycle shop while racing mountain bikes, substitute teaching to make ends almost meet)... I'm back at my regular gig of teaching and coaching, which means I'm back to the long winter haitus from my bike. </div>
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As basketball season draws to a close and my bike is seeing more love (only on weekends, but that's better than nothing), I'm bringing out the random pictures from the last several months: <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_BqLATpy6aTADk8JfksRwOJya3Dygm975IJq9JuoeheWn-xJjXnfisXl0L_KSeKZEhCdpNJKS7WGH6dE79TSx1pUA9_LjgIq7FFU63gHPzO_yTgJk5Boogf18_Ho5EMMp9NNZsEi2JDk/s1600/IMG_3323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_BqLATpy6aTADk8JfksRwOJya3Dygm975IJq9JuoeheWn-xJjXnfisXl0L_KSeKZEhCdpNJKS7WGH6dE79TSx1pUA9_LjgIq7FFU63gHPzO_yTgJk5Boogf18_Ho5EMMp9NNZsEi2JDk/s320/IMG_3323.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSaKrn2ehDw-3wsqApGM7_0IEOH_S8d-9bUOGfl2djJ9HNUzX4VqjGlGs5PzAoq-U1OW8iC-YXrclAvJWzOVuVQeYQ7SM_qkOiOXifqP9wneSMn1XEsIPiyODsB81-Clegn0CqpnQ_TE/s1600/IMG_3308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSaKrn2ehDw-3wsqApGM7_0IEOH_S8d-9bUOGfl2djJ9HNUzX4VqjGlGs5PzAoq-U1OW8iC-YXrclAvJWzOVuVQeYQ7SM_qkOiOXifqP9wneSMn1XEsIPiyODsB81-Clegn0CqpnQ_TE/s400/IMG_3308.jpg" width="300" /></a> Left: Working a fund-raiser for our basketball team at the Texas Motor
Speedway. I got to stand and hold this lovely sign for 5 hours. I will
spare you the number of comments I heard from beverage toting fans. <br />
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Top right: Now that is more like it! Watching our basketball girls come together as they worked hard in the weight room.<br />
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My husband's football team won state!! <br />
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About the dead of winter, my friend Alicia sent me this picture that was apparently on the "24 Hours in the Canyon" website. It reminded me that the season for biking would soon return. To make myself feel better in the meantime, I sat down and planned my spring races, including the annual 24 hour race in May. If I couldn't be on my bike, I could at least think about being on my bike.<br />
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This pictures was taken on a cold, windy day, when the bike and I were happy to be out, despite the lack of sunshine. Oh how fast the endurance goes. After a less-than-2-hour ride, I was smoked. <br />
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Back to randomness...<br />
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For Christmas, my husband went to Kenya, Africa, for 10 days to visit his little brother (who is living there for 3 years) and I took a fast trip to Colorado with my sister's family.<br />
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Aaron in the African sun,<br />
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And me in the Colorado snow, snapping a few selfies with my niece, nephew, and sista. Don't tell my brother-in-law I took a secret photo of our Sequoia after it landed in a ditch.<br />
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January and February were exhausting months, but as always, the seasons eventually change. Spring is right around the corner, and I'm ready for it.<br />
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Since this is "my yearly random post," I will end by sharing some pictures from my sister and niece's most recent trip to Haiti to visit Marlee, the precious baby girl they are adopting into their family.<br />
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I can't find the words to wrap this up. I simply know that I am thankful for this life, most of all for the people I get to share it with.</div>
Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-74267970206938679352015-10-17T09:14:00.000-07:002015-11-20T16:50:09.986-08:00Dirt Side SistersSometimes in life an unexpected gift is dropped right into your hands.<br />
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That happened to me yesterday, when a simple text from a friend inviting me to join a "women's ride at River Legacy on Friday" and "dinner on the patio at Grease Monkey" afterward turned into an amazing time of fellowship with a group of women who call themselves the Dirt Side Sisters.<br />
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<a href="http://teamuranga.com/">Lisa Uranga</a> and <a href="http://www.giantscottsdale.com/en-US/livgiant/ambassador/abby.santurbane/75/">Lorinda Putter</a>, two dedicated ambassadors to the sport of mountain biking, have been working hard to build a platform and a community where women can gain confidence and launch into their own adventures on the dirt. I love it!!<br />
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I met a whole group of ladies who share the passion for riding. From Plano to Keller to Murphy to Denton, women from all over the metroplex and from all walks of life met at River Legacy for their final ride of the season. The good news? They are starting back up in April!<br />
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Lisa teaches technique at the famous EKG section of River Legacy trail in Arlington.<br />
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Mallory and Kelly demonstrate how to negotiate a tricky descent.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIIqp3OPLasGdpXFIIdn8MlJ6oJnzPpTVsxwT31y_wW4kmfQMvYNVLKz7ii9osTlXZMQkUO4qiD4i7gAm9lnfDWX9_UFHRZj7jQcwyhXYeQsAl_4tSY455HW6RO3EhkhNT13eQxstLa4/s1600/IMG_3260.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIIqp3OPLasGdpXFIIdn8MlJ6oJnzPpTVsxwT31y_wW4kmfQMvYNVLKz7ii9osTlXZMQkUO4qiD4i7gAm9lnfDWX9_UFHRZj7jQcwyhXYeQsAl_4tSY455HW6RO3EhkhNT13eQxstLa4/s640/IMG_3260.jpg" width="480" /></a> <i><b>You go girls!</b></i><br />
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Lorinda preps the group on how to safely drop in...<br />
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Everyone conquered the drop! Lisa shoots a few pics.</div>
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Lisa and Lorinda wrap up the evening of dirt, dinner, and drinks with some great swag handouts. Everyone celebrated the accomplishments of each other. Here's to the dirt side sisters!<br />
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See you in the spring!<br />
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<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-64496635391276095482015-09-13T13:58:00.002-07:002016-02-06T14:46:26.723-08:00The hard side of lifeThe last couple of posts have been all about the bike: how to train for an epic race, a race recap from a season with the pros. I'm grateful for the bike and the adventures it continually affords me.<br />
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But sometimes the priority and luxury of "bike" fades to the background with the rest of the things of the world. Sometimes the wrestle with "life" is so encompassing, so real, that the bike is all but forgotten. Sometimes life is, well, hard.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittYChxvQhAfJJ_6RZMkhI3UVPE2VvBOARmZxaiQcVBAnX4OXOUIZeq2STKt-cPftbasRVl66uhnYGVqH7ivN2M87TAigVsdt7hRhicoRM0y1ABId1-JaGrKFqabkcWbZs-LxID_PQmgM/s1600/IMG_2920.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittYChxvQhAfJJ_6RZMkhI3UVPE2VvBOARmZxaiQcVBAnX4OXOUIZeq2STKt-cPftbasRVl66uhnYGVqH7ivN2M87TAigVsdt7hRhicoRM0y1ABId1-JaGrKFqabkcWbZs-LxID_PQmgM/s200/IMG_2920.jpg" width="200" /></a>About six weeks after I wrapped up a lengthy spring of XC racing, I traveled to Haiti with my older sister, Katie, and her sister-in-law, Judy. It was my second trip to see my adopted niece and nephew. It was my sister's 7th trip.<br />
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Katie and her husband and their two biological children have been in a lengthy process of adopting Marlee and Jett. The struggle to bring their Haitian kids home has been incredibly difficult. Early in the journey, a betrayal by a fraudulent orphanage left them emotionally reeling. But it led them to being re-matched to two true orphans, Marlee and Jett.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marlee managed to pull all the little braids out of her hair. </td></tr>
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For almost three years, as the struggle against seemingly insurmountable odds has deepened the angst of the physical chasm between Texas and Haiti, the collective heart of my sister's family has deepened in its closeness to their beloved son and daughter, their baby brother and sister.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zeke holds his little brother.</td></tr>
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Only four weeks after Katie, Judy, and I returned home, a phone call came from Haiti. It wasn't the good news aching hearts were yearning for, but rather a painful carving of the soul- the kind of carving that brings you to your knees, that brings sobs so loud they have no sound. It was the kind of carving that scars deep and changes a person forever.<br />
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Jett had passed away.<br />
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Three days later, I was back in Haiti at Jett's funeral. I sat next to my family on the gym floor of the orphanage. The director led an emotional eulogy for the little four year old. We were surrounded by several dozen children and nannies and young Haitian men and women who dearly loved Jett. <br />
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The five days I was at the orphanage with Katie, Mark, Mati, Zeke, and Marlee, I often thought about how only one month before, Jett was smiling and blowing bubbles and being a good big brother to his spunky sister. I remembered the lighthearted conversation Judy and I had when we proposed what kind of profession the quiet, industrious, little caretaker might have one day. I remembered one year ago when Mati and Zeke got to meet Marlee and Jett for the first time ever.<br />
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I cannot write everything from those five days as we mourned Jett's passing, but I can say that even though every minute was overwhelmingly hard, somehow there was also good. I know this sounds impossible. Maybe that is what I mean by "I cannot write everything." Sometimes faith and God's presence and how good can come from something so tragic is hard to explain. <br />
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Jett spent his last days on earth knowing he was a beloved son. He spent his last days knowing he had a family. He is now with a perfect father in a perfect place with all the other precious orphans who never found an earthly home. I can't wait to see them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCAVdTY-7yi59x6p0i6wyqQAnFt852AChuJ338E3V-SxX1igF8EepcGZ9qVPolqywZ2fhQQxOM5PvrR31hhJ83I1fJ2E8nJviVRs3WPuCeMl3vCPSGc1YUdjZIIbpcdFpxykaZqBYISdk/s1600/IMG_2972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCAVdTY-7yi59x6p0i6wyqQAnFt852AChuJ338E3V-SxX1igF8EepcGZ9qVPolqywZ2fhQQxOM5PvrR31hhJ83I1fJ2E8nJviVRs3WPuCeMl3vCPSGc1YUdjZIIbpcdFpxykaZqBYISdk/s200/IMG_2972.jpg" width="150" /></a>I imagine Jett is laughing with stickers on his face and blowing bubbles. Maybe <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/08/happy-90th-granny.html">Granny</a>, in her new youth, is sharing a piece of her Hershey bar with him. Maybe <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2012/08/one-of-coolest-guys-you-will-ever-meet.html">Matt</a>, who is skipping alongside, is teaching him a funny joke. <br />
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Actually, I have no clue what heaven is like. But I know it is good. I know it will be every bit worth our struggle. And so our scarred hearts can be comforted. <br />
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In the meantime, I will join my big sister, along with my huge family of brothers and sisters, in fighting the good fight. We will keep loving and laughing and learning from friends of all cultures. We will keep praying Marlee and the children have daily provision. We will keep on keeping on together, and we will never forget the moments we had with Jett.<br />
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<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSie09SLpqGPHhvMEUV6M_G2-e42-SeSW_MigUuVE0sdFosr-Xp7FO7IUd2cIYwbEE4xFsK_zDnCcmQvYLbYCcAuNhmSnFzCtq8PsFLGfUuUTFBW1417a8f4t0o3qVykfk10l_bhS1tg/s320/IMG_2917.jpg" width="320" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrjj-Y0mEgCWtYFD_YejGohPppcDG2BcVlonwwsmtziTDS5nlNAaaobirWwbOo8OiRt-HmlpyRKigojfWlhhQea-NFbTEKcRny5Ta6gtm5ffhZOVZBhcdvnZ_lue6eGeiLtIBAojbrCE/s1600/IMG_2951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrjj-Y0mEgCWtYFD_YejGohPppcDG2BcVlonwwsmtziTDS5nlNAaaobirWwbOo8OiRt-HmlpyRKigojfWlhhQea-NFbTEKcRny5Ta6gtm5ffhZOVZBhcdvnZ_lue6eGeiLtIBAojbrCE/s320/IMG_2951.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Jett loved riding bikes. None of the rickety bikes at the orphanage worked properly, and he would try to tinker with them and figure out how to make them go. <br />
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In loving memory of Jett. We will see you soon.<br />
<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-35430748496586236392015-06-03T09:20:00.000-07:002015-06-16T09:08:35.399-07:002015 TMBRA Spring Series: "Posing as a Pro"<br />
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<span style="background-color: #a2c4c9;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: magenta;">Spring Time = Racin' Time! </span></span></i></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Trying to live life to the fullest. </span></span></span></td></tr>
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I vividly recall my first mountain bike race. It was 2008, in St. Jo, Texas. I had no team, no experience, and less fear than I do now.<br />
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I wore underwear under my chammies and heavy duty knee protectors. My brother-in-law kindly asked, "Are you going to wear those?" He was referring to the leg armor, of course.<br />
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A little of my bravery came off when they did, but nonetheless I raced my heart out and had an absolute blast.<br />
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I've never been the most consistent participant on the local racing scene, even so, I always seem to come back for more.<br />
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This year, for the first time in my racing life, I found myself with a full winter to train and the freedom to attend an entire spring series on the Texas Mountain Bike Racing Association <a href="http://tmbra.org/">(TMBRA)</a> circuit.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc4SWQmSQBpePO2CRcYpHAZftY-feuziHLCZO0BF96vvKRILqs2TsHCvmqj6huqZT4PWgqQSrK6-amG69E1i6jWZcHXtgpS5ZQQQdW5xdw9EIKPW-5bifm5w1vADujiNuiz6KENJyxwTw/s1600/IMG_2624.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc4SWQmSQBpePO2CRcYpHAZftY-feuziHLCZO0BF96vvKRILqs2TsHCvmqj6huqZT4PWgqQSrK6-amG69E1i6jWZcHXtgpS5ZQQQdW5xdw9EIKPW-5bifm5w1vADujiNuiz6KENJyxwTw/s200/IMG_2624.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
My goal was to race all eight races of the February through May series in the "pro/open" category. Could I hang with the big girls? Probably not. Could I get my butt to the start line and finish line eight times? Well, that was my goal. Little did I know the adventures that were just around the berm. <br />
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Here is
how it went down:<b> </b><br />
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<a name='more'></a><b>1) "Rocky Hill Roundup," Smithville.</b><br />
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Our field was stacked 11 strong,
including the eventual winner on the day, <a href="http://www.cyclesmithcoaching.com/">Christina-Gokey Smith</a>, an "American professional racing
cyclist," according to Wikipedia. Good thing I didn't know I was racing someone with her own wikipedia page, I was nervous enough as it was. My hope for this first race in over a year, and first race ever with the pros, was to survive and not be too intimidated.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUbJjcFMWlTlvTv-coi9MuvZINTR6m_uI1OQHww6H70M9sWqtv6ZInSu3aqTXKZlfo6Az8NOU6nuL63HJl1DJx7r-Ln0YoGNm_2arYy9OB8Bgxe11kiaZisvaBmObHe3az6yO4pJx2SfE/s1600/IMG_2613.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #45818e;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Left to right: Amy Parkinson, Fiona Dougherty, me, and Sarah Ginsbach.</span></span></td></tr>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-I-aoYtjgOuE-93Shyphenhyphen4zORvycvMLVFifwvfDPQ7bHQDwZ6rgE-iuFh09UAbSbAg-3UzpxmP1C7FDNBJTlhsgLtRqfTalXWsbdz6wrZMdMzIZCXvZ_WifN37bW-l46Epn_XuMk4mcEG0U/s1600/IMG_2614.JPG" width="640" /> </div>
This photo about sums it up: Straight to the back of the pack I went, and stayed for the rest of the race. But it felt good to be back in the TMBRA community and to get a little dirt on my tires.<br />
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The defending series champion, <a href="http://teamuranga.com/">Lisa Uranga</a>, finished behind Gokey-Smith, followed by Samantha Runnels
in third. If only we could have bottled up the perfect riding conditions from the day and carried them with us to the next race...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_M8YX7t9zDJ4bxp99XhLCm-q1WQkzcxwnru2rD4V0aS_mgpU6NcJfRVOnol3NRFOznbspRbndLRJRXFNisQ8NbtddPkXfAha0oFofLgO0epL9bZ7K1IAwa2CbkUjoaTUJvef1yXlt0w/s1600/IMG_2623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_M8YX7t9zDJ4bxp99XhLCm-q1WQkzcxwnru2rD4V0aS_mgpU6NcJfRVOnol3NRFOznbspRbndLRJRXFNisQ8NbtddPkXfAha0oFofLgO0epL9bZ7K1IAwa2CbkUjoaTUJvef1yXlt0w/s1600/IMG_2623.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<b>2) "Mellow Johnny's Classic," Dripping Springs.</b><br />
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Thank
goodness my husband drove us out of Fort Worth. We slid our way south on icy I35, hoping for better conditions as we neared Austin.
At the gas station in Waco, where the snow and ice turned to cold rain,
my bike looked like it had been attacked by Mr. Freeze.<br />
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On the pre-ride, temperatures hovered in the high-30's and sleety drizzle fell. These were certainly not ideal conditions, but for a slow poke like me, I hoped the nastiness might level the playing field. <br />
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I guess it did, as I made my first podium as a (poser riding with the) pro(s). I should mention there were only five of us, and that Lisa took a DNF after a sketchy fall, and Brittany Parffrey had a flat, so I only tiptoed on the bottom step by default. Sometimes you just take the money and run. <br />
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Sarah Ginsbach, a strong contender every race and every series, won first. Fiona Dougherty, a sixteen year-old phenom who I predict will make a name for herself in the very near future, finished second.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Py-7JbaDbvHg3aUmF6F4CgJYhno5Sc4_ulM5qcy_IUgLIWHjt-5Ro_w_4Ms-VhNoJVckUITOedtw6_P7PSeQNCZACGBTg1X9OX3R4S_sbHT8peR8HCkfgiaOXLpodxJzgOEh7xT0O6A/s1600/IMG_2634.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Py-7JbaDbvHg3aUmF6F4CgJYhno5Sc4_ulM5qcy_IUgLIWHjt-5Ro_w_4Ms-VhNoJVckUITOedtw6_P7PSeQNCZACGBTg1X9OX3R4S_sbHT8peR8HCkfgiaOXLpodxJzgOEh7xT0O6A/s1600/IMG_2634.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Is it just me, or does my face look frozen?</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlovc7Ndbk19e_ocK0I3GDCDok1IaHH6xGSyKqivTNYcHTXRP_HXf4t35KyaOpl_vyJvXhHcpABv6PE8S7xiJitaOo38h53MAnXZDcWjq0wWOZ1-F4YJabga7kgO1qFEuFKWNQCkAYgcw/s1600/IMG_2636.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlovc7Ndbk19e_ocK0I3GDCDok1IaHH6xGSyKqivTNYcHTXRP_HXf4t35KyaOpl_vyJvXhHcpABv6PE8S7xiJitaOo38h53MAnXZDcWjq0wWOZ1-F4YJabga7kgO1qFEuFKWNQCkAYgcw/s1600/IMG_2636.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Note to self: Don't bother with toe covers in the mud.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2VCFxh6OZqB6u3kAqfkZcvfODQH3xXF8TZsJ7ZF1aF6tNnL2DEyK85dtf0XLB2QxBkLJAtjE2rIEto_X-BDECuKrXGwXxZPLxJFagOW7trv9PhpUeFsSow-mONPVMogMjJ75M9nMQycE/s400/IMG_2631.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">I was grateful my drive train kept cranking.</span></span></td></tr>
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<b>3) "Hill Country Mountain Bike Challenge," Comfort. </b><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJ-7KDbQ-RqdLSNSXpZYGzkiJ7cSEUMwW1yevNMmH8eKUrxjMp-DGtLYzc7LUuFfW2gHKaN2nc5G2SCpdroqiVQWfLUBJVgYIOYSbGFcZFDnU4LEyAmmIdaOOMywWqZIN-LazzcroU6Q/s1600/IMG_2654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJ-7KDbQ-RqdLSNSXpZYGzkiJ7cSEUMwW1yevNMmH8eKUrxjMp-DGtLYzc7LUuFfW2gHKaN2nc5G2SCpdroqiVQWfLUBJVgYIOYSbGFcZFDnU4LEyAmmIdaOOMywWqZIN-LazzcroU6Q/s640/IMG_2654.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Lisa picks her line.</span></span></td></tr>
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I should point out a positive of the weekend. I got to catch up with my friend Lisa. We decided to pre-ride together for safety sake due to the plethora of rock gardens. Lisa is always off the front at races, so it was cool to get to actually ride with her, even though her pre-ride pace was about the same as my race pace. She ended up coming in second to Gokey-Smith again, and Fiona climbed into third. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzl0KMLRfO4qp5tThyCJzxTtxSxxIcViJCz7TApWu9tbqb8QTAj-Whbfohp5w80mcCQCkPH05G3cJBU9YVKFPySFmhyLDVSQpxbqOcYCgHnoi2pbL0-dlEwvQhsYKNf58y9kanr1FUmRQ/s640/IMG_2653.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">It's easy to see why neither of us wanted to pre-ride on our own.</span> </span></span></td></tr>
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Race day was a tough one for me, one of those races where I had to fight more mentally than physically. From the get-go I had
mechanical issues, further exacerbated when I went over my handlebars descending a rock section only a few miles in to the 27 mile race. The crash didn't hurt my body, but it wrecked my already suffering psyche (and jacked up my rear derailleur.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjlSxlYWO-4rOUegggmWArJevTjYYkjHMgJhH8oOB3rKuGfM6ft6mkfTj6ZC8wdHn1bSRGIvJVbljcaCW1Uiyc5ASbUgSOgtTbqx15Lx4EVu81cBzJqDZ4Ib0lV1DrzhIEa-prqr2RXw/s1600/IMG_2644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjlSxlYWO-4rOUegggmWArJevTjYYkjHMgJhH8oOB3rKuGfM6ft6mkfTj6ZC8wdHn1bSRGIvJVbljcaCW1Uiyc5ASbUgSOgtTbqx15Lx4EVu81cBzJqDZ4Ib0lV1DrzhIEa-prqr2RXw/s200/IMG_2644.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Jessica, me, and Kathy Hudson at the Fossil 50</span></span></td></tr>
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I was coming off one of my most memorable weekends ever on a bike, where I had actually won a tough endurance race called the Fossil 50. (<a href="http://www.kodiaktough.com/">The Fossil 50</a> takes place in Glen Rose, Tx. There were 15 women in our field, and local pro Jessica Smith and I leapfrogged back and forth and finished within seconds of each other after over four hours of racing.) Needless to say, I was anticipating doing a little better than I did at this longer style TMBRA race.<br />
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My bike was functioning enough to limp across the finish line, so that is what I did. When the mental beating at Comfort (some sort of oxymoron there) was over, I was thankful to crawl into the passenger seat of my trusty Toyota and start the 5 hour drive home with Aaron.<br />
<br />
When the car broke down, we were still four hours from home. At least the sky was blue?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorRN_GDsOvDSyp8IEcyxJd4_0NFYqJMNFMpWnW2tc3R8CxJ65Dv0BwZG41HVmhjrR7RZrbLjZRcX-4UGRhUiKJOd9n-67eqwXjLum6vEPaGxEVBLipAJs1QHj3Mjde_bpw8r98Odzy1o/s1600/IMG_2657.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorRN_GDsOvDSyp8IEcyxJd4_0NFYqJMNFMpWnW2tc3R8CxJ65Dv0BwZG41HVmhjrR7RZrbLjZRcX-4UGRhUiKJOd9n-67eqwXjLum6vEPaGxEVBLipAJs1QHj3Mjde_bpw8r98Odzy1o/s1600/IMG_2657.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnJY-PdI11KxL22Hc6KYHhCAZ_4r55PkOMrqCMWzj0qWQKEIbdM0J5N54aBBuX86KUcL3gMFc08tYbvepqsAoINMk_yyRNGbJkJyxSF3eT_TMslfFirCmsJfsfzGbtXCmXOya2_zq1Ew/s1600/IMG_2660.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnJY-PdI11KxL22Hc6KYHhCAZ_4r55PkOMrqCMWzj0qWQKEIbdM0J5N54aBBuX86KUcL3gMFc08tYbvepqsAoINMk_yyRNGbJkJyxSF3eT_TMslfFirCmsJfsfzGbtXCmXOya2_zq1Ew/s640/IMG_2660.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br />
Aaron, as usual, brought some much needed entertainment to the weekend. Here he panhandled for some money to pay for our car and hotel and German food. We ended up having the car towed to Fredricksburg where we were stranded for 2 days.<br />
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Yes, it could have been worse. And no, that is not the front of the hotel where we stayed. Our motel was across the street. When we got kicked out, we lugged all our junk over to this quaint little spot until we heard the awaited words, "Your clutch is fixed." <br />
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<b>4) "Bent Wheel Bash," Abilene.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9HcGGBBDj2CFoKuqeAvKFVmD5fsC16o5Plnzd7Sn6xgOrJLb75GeqDM5peFkoAcPh01-QzooRBzyRU9DYJbaCB72tqjUYC335SEobaolCTcrgq-kSNkwLcAzhbjD93Y13tU4JDw9aXI/s1600/2012-06-23+09.31.18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9HcGGBBDj2CFoKuqeAvKFVmD5fsC16o5Plnzd7Sn6xgOrJLb75GeqDM5peFkoAcPh01-QzooRBzyRU9DYJbaCB72tqjUYC335SEobaolCTcrgq-kSNkwLcAzhbjD93Y13tU4JDw9aXI/s200/2012-06-23+09.31.18.jpg" width="200" /></a>Finally in the series, my fitness was showing up on the bike. There were four of us racing: Lisa, Sarah, Andrea Fox, and me. We took to the West Texas trail in that order. Lisa was soon off the front, but I was keeping pace with the other two and felt like I had solid reserves in the tank. After a few miles, Sarah started sneaking away, so I made a move to get around Andrea. My brain was in full race mode and I was stoked to see how the 30 mile race would play out. <br />
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Before we were halfway into the first of three laps, some chaos ensued. </div>
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Our swift moving train of three ladies, which had blended with some of the Cat 1 men, came to a sudden halt. Only seconds earlier in front of us, someone ejected from his saddle. It was Lisa's husband, Carlos, and his face was bleeding profusely. She had no idea her husband was hurt, as she was ahead of the group.</div>
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It is an unwritten rule among (most) racers to look out for each other, so none of our stalled group was willing to leave the scene until we knew Carlos was okay. The particular spot where we were all temporarily paralyzed was at a narrow rock chute, with surrounding cacti and mesquite preventing a bypass. More racers were arriving and Carlos was still bleeding. For some reason, with my brain firing about ninety miles an hour, I ordered everyone to go on, that we needed to clear the trail, and I would stay with Carlos.<br />
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Someone asked, "Are you sure?" Sarah made sure I had my phone. In a calm, but emergency-toned voice, I answered, "Yes, I have my phone. You guys go." <br />
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Andrea had been immediately behind me, but had been quiet during the 911 repartee. Unbeknownst to me until we all regrouped after the race, she is one of those souls who cannot stomach the sight of blood. No wonder she was so quiet. <br />
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For a moment, I was bummed to watch the race move on, especially since I was feeling strong and wanted to see how long I could stay with Sarah. But I had to bring myself into the moment and let it go. Little did I know that fate and good will would swing a potential DNF into my best finish of the series.<br />
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Once the trail was clear, my memory combed through its first aid files. Carlos was sitting up on the ground and speaking coherently, so task number one was to stop the bleeding and check for other head injuries. He had already taken off his sweatband and had it pressed to his face. He was duly upset at his situation, but he was also mad his ordeal was causing someone else to stop. I think he even apologized to me first, and then followed in his accent with, "I can't see." </div>
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Not good. </div>
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"Oh no," my mind sputtered, "Lord, please, not his eye." I was afraid he had hit a jagged rock or that his sunglasses had shattered. </div>
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"Where am I bleeding from?" When he moved his soaked headband, I could tell he had a deep gash right above his eye. Looking around the rest of his face, from what I could tell under the blood, the fresh neon pink gash was the only injury. I was temporarily relieved. </div>
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"You have a nasty cut right above your eye, but your eye looks okay. Can you see?" At this point, Carlos was getting antsy and frustrated. I was hoping he would answer, "Yes, I can see now," but he answered the exact opposite.</div>
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"No, I can't see anything."</div>
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I was afraid he had suffered a severe head injury. My next inquiry was if he was dizzy or had a headache. He answered negative to both, and stood up. I was trying to keep him from moving around, still trying to find a phone number of someone in the expo area where the emergency tent was, and trying to watch for oncoming racers. I didn't want to dial 911 prematurely, but I wasn't having any luck contacting anyone back at the start. </div>
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While I was still fumbling around with my phone, Carlos crossed the trail, picked up his bike, and took off his number plate. I remember feeling relieved and thinking, "Ok, he can see." (I think the reason his vision was blurry was from the blood in his eyes.) </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="size-medium" height="320" src="https://teamuranga.files.wordpress.com/2015/04/img_7612.jpg?w=300&h=300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Carlos is one tough guy. After a few stitches, he was soon back on his bike.</span></span></td></tr>
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"Carlos, are you okay?" I called across the trail as he began traversing the cacti minefield toward the main road that led to the expo area. <br />
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"Yea, I'm okay." He was already halfway across the inhospitable terrain.<br />
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With Carlos en route to the medical tent, I realized it was time to ride. (They gave him the option to go to the emergency room for stitches or sew him up on site. He chose the latter. I saw him after the race, and aside from some greenish purplish swelling, he was okay. *I didn't know until writing this blog post that he took 11 stitches above his brow and 3 in the corner of his eye.) </div>
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I don't know exactly how long I was stopped. My best guess is 4 or 5 minutes. I didn't think I had a chance to catch Andrea and Sarah, but I decided to try anyways. There was still a lot of race left, and my legs still felt strong.</div>
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A Cat 1 guy, who I still have no clue who he was, was the power source that pushed me back into the race. Early in the second lap, he was chasing from behind and I made it my goal to keep him behind me. He pushed me and I pulled him, and at the end of lap two, we exchanged thanks. He only had two laps in his race, so as he began chatting even more as he cruised to his finish line, I smiled and said I still had one more lap to go. </div>
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The steady stream of energy to my legs flagged a little as I realized I still had about 45 minutes of hard racing ahead. I was beginning to succumb to my fatigue, when I noticed an odd sight. Sarah was walking backwards on the trail. I stopped (thinking the race was shot anyways) to see what happened. </div>
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"I got a flat. Hey, Andrea is not far ahead," Sarah encouraged.</div>
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Before she could finish her statement, I was back in race mode. It was time to turn myself inside out, lay it all on the line, and see what happened. A much needed shot of adrenaline shot through me. </div>
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Soon enough, I spotted Andrea in an open, hilly area where the trail traversed up and down some climbs. When she crossed a certain point on the trail, I looked at my computer and noted the time. When I crossed the same spot, I was a little over a minute back. Could I close the gap over the final five or six miles? I wasn't sure. </div>
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At the bottom of a climb, I put my head down and felt the sun beating on my back. I coached my legs, "Steady, smooth. Keep going, just don't stop. One section at at time." As I was grinding it out in my mind, I noticed Andrea coming toward me to my right on a section of trail not far over. I made it to the top and flew back down.</div>
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A couple of minutes later, at the bottom of the last steep pitch, I looked up and saw the third odd sight of the day. Andrea was standing at the top of the hill cheering for me. It totally caught me off guard.<br />
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In a hypoxic voice, I hollered, "What are you doing?? Go!" But she didn't budge. She just stood there smiling and cheering.</div>
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As I drew closer, I repeated, "You don't have to do this, go!" I realized she would not clip back in until I had passed her. In my humble racing career, this was the greatest display of sportsmanship I had ever experienced. "Okay, here we go then."</div>
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I know she could have passed me, but she never did. We rode that way all the way to the finish line.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixc-kHCF2W8DeIN9lUD-vFsRwg3NS9zklguhEF81dShp-kKxo4BYvAXoQ_3QsOH1sRRyZsqx857-LiGuiT3SPgZJqWcjLnrFMnc9NmTv4R2MNYRkWiNSmvtrBeVRKfXcSoKKdkrcjB7eU/s1600/IMG_2669.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixc-kHCF2W8DeIN9lUD-vFsRwg3NS9zklguhEF81dShp-kKxo4BYvAXoQ_3QsOH1sRRyZsqx857-LiGuiT3SPgZJqWcjLnrFMnc9NmTv4R2MNYRkWiNSmvtrBeVRKfXcSoKKdkrcjB7eU/s1600/IMG_2669.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"> Andrea, Lisa, and I together on the podium after a most eventful race. </span></span></td></tr>
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<b>5) "Bicycle Sport Shop Pace Bend Race," Spicewood.</b><br />
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At least the bluebonnets were pretty.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ve4eJp36nea_eFZxG5zY92A5bCMkH2ZZ6G7FHFZ5HUjTibJ0UyMeVeWVEgKKf1Rerw8UU17o5FthOc6qLJtKd1jUSB84IPLYLVYIy4g5F8o4JWBR2_aE90wfaAzmMXoFBuhYUiEYPQ0/s1600/IMG_2677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ve4eJp36nea_eFZxG5zY92A5bCMkH2ZZ6G7FHFZ5HUjTibJ0UyMeVeWVEgKKf1Rerw8UU17o5FthOc6qLJtKd1jUSB84IPLYLVYIy4g5F8o4JWBR2_aE90wfaAzmMXoFBuhYUiEYPQ0/s640/IMG_2677.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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At the start line, a light rain began to fall. It was enough to wreak some havoc on the course. Rocks plus rain equal danger. Of the six racers in the pro/open women's field, two had significant crashes. Samantha was too beat up to continue, and Fiona made it to the finish despite a hurt elbow. Lisa survived the conditions to come in first, Sarah second, and Brittany third. <br />
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My body was not cooperating much, and I was off the back and in survival mode from start to end. "Just get to the finish in one piece" became my frustrating motto. I knew the next race on the schedule was my "home" race of the season. Hopefully, I would fare better.<br />
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<b>6) "Dorba Prayer Mountain Pedal," Big Cedar Trails, Dallas.</b><br />
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The course was modified due to mud, and it was yet another race to test the nerves of us all.<br />
We ended up doing 4 laps of a 5.5 mile course.<br />
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The first lap was the worst, especially on the switchback descents. At a descending snail's pace, with my bike angled steeply on the downhill incline, I attempted to negotiate a sharp left turn in slippery goop. I turned my handlebars to the left, but my bike slowly started sliding off the course to the right. I put my foot down in the mud to stop my slow fall. <br />
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Toward the end of the first lap, as I dropped off a technical part and negotiated a massive root at speed, I prayed my mud soaked tires found purchase on the rain soaked trail. I contemplated quitting because I was afraid. The ambulance I had seen out of the corner of my eye at the start didn't help.<br />
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I forced myself to stick to my original goal, the one I had set many months prior: Get to the start line, get to the finish line. With each consecutive lap, the conditions improved and so did my attitude. And for the third time of the season, I hit the podium. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjCiCm3c3WIzKJDWZGTfxQAAGfOYnB79fOF5TTkakawjxnfLCE20ki_Pr-RvVNW-x2wSvyH3jUwTkF9Lx-7scsXo2lM0U3UZsFRb-TAVdtgPrVFtfVhQIg-MXdABb4F9-rWPy43pXrnA/s1600/IMG_2703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjCiCm3c3WIzKJDWZGTfxQAAGfOYnB79fOF5TTkakawjxnfLCE20ki_Pr-RvVNW-x2wSvyH3jUwTkF9Lx-7scsXo2lM0U3UZsFRb-TAVdtgPrVFtfVhQIg-MXdABb4F9-rWPy43pXrnA/s400/IMG_2703.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Fiona, Sarah, and me.</span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXrOKMYEDWzTmGoFFdHglVv0u2GL2ErtITE617QNKWPV-3TSDoWWfm-qVJeJhNjxIXsvpEQOn9bHiP_pyMUzlkvrJhyphenhyphenLBV7lbXtX4WqKzZdcNiEhGioy9vrXswV_TyeE5vYYvF6_IuF4/s1600/IMG_2699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXrOKMYEDWzTmGoFFdHglVv0u2GL2ErtITE617QNKWPV-3TSDoWWfm-qVJeJhNjxIXsvpEQOn9bHiP_pyMUzlkvrJhyphenhyphenLBV7lbXtX4WqKzZdcNiEhGioy9vrXswV_TyeE5vYYvF6_IuF4/s400/IMG_2699.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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For the day's champion (Sarah) and runner-up (Fiona), the series' overall was shaping up to be a battle to the very end. Lisa, who sat out the race, only needed one more victory to defend her series title. With two short, fast races left, she was poised to reclaim her crown. Since the series is the best 5 out of 8, I was glad to finally drop my 11th place from Rocky Hill and replace it with a third. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFH6HoVryt-4WHQhlpzjCsRq9Vwc7qD1hCifOQXHEUs_uwTXL5dP-VJaLxBmJKmy40zp4lqpFh355LewcEtiohPhB9NjFb8k0zCPBnJao0P_8P4Ax8UjtYk9yTBr-_47npmrbljjfjL3U/s1600/IMG_2697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFH6HoVryt-4WHQhlpzjCsRq9Vwc7qD1hCifOQXHEUs_uwTXL5dP-VJaLxBmJKmy40zp4lqpFh355LewcEtiohPhB9NjFb8k0zCPBnJao0P_8P4Ax8UjtYk9yTBr-_47npmrbljjfjL3U/s640/IMG_2697.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Sydnei and Sheree.</span></span></td></tr>
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In the Cat 1 series, Sheree Benavides, who became a traveling buddy of mine to a few races, was racing strong. She and Sydnei Anderson had their own ongoing battle for the Cat 1 series overall champion.<br />
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Sheree would eventually wrap up first on her personal quest to the pro ranks. <br />
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<b>7) "GHORBA Big Ring Challenge," Coldspring.</b></div>
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Good conditions prevailed and so did the champions. Lisa took the lead, Fiona right behind, and Sarah in third. Brittany finished fourth, and I, once again, came up last. But I raced hard and enjoyed the day. Funny, my trend for the series went like this: last, podium, last, podium, last, podium, last. </div>
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Even though I was the caboose, the first 7 or 8 minutes of the race were some of the most fun and memorable of the series for me. I was on the train with all of the other ladies and we glided through the tall forest like a unified machine. It was glorious. My happy brain had hopes I could stay with the seasoned riders for the whole race. But the inevitable happened. They put the hammer down, and I smiled and watched them ride away. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTw5dfWuO2jTJJyj-0xpDei1g4ZJ-KvawqpeV-zC5qExIal9sOfPMv5DlQoY_lU7swXAPKL76iG0zMnbkiDOOpRF80oZCjjfakLkTds-do8yPVFG0k62YLZ0A-rwuCk8FwppriCDSdCQ/s1600/IMG_2712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTw5dfWuO2jTJJyj-0xpDei1g4ZJ-KvawqpeV-zC5qExIal9sOfPMv5DlQoY_lU7swXAPKL76iG0zMnbkiDOOpRF80oZCjjfakLkTds-do8yPVFG0k62YLZ0A-rwuCk8FwppriCDSdCQ/s640/IMG_2712.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Fiona, Lisa, and Sarah. Three of the best mountain bike racers in Texas.</span></span></td></tr>
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By
this point of the spring season, after seven months of dedicated training and racing, I knew I had reached my personal pinnacle in pro XC racing. I had been careful with my diet, had put in sufficient hours on my road and mountain bike, stayed on top of my flexibility and recovery, and also invested time and energy each week to
keep my bike in racing shape. (Which meant swapping from mud tires to race tires, then back and forth again. It also meant bringing a few six packs to the mechanics at <a href="http://bicyclesinc.com/">Bikes Inc.</a> who did the real wrenching.) </div>
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I understood at this juncture, if I wanted to keep up with the pros and compete, I would have to sacrifice more than I was willing to sacrifice. The next level would probably include hiring a coach, buying an expensive power meter, locating some sponsors, and dedicating even more mental and physical energy than before. </div>
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Indeed, I love mountain biking. And I love racing. But I also love many other things in life. Like being home with my husband. And coaching in a February basketball playoff game. And playing disc golf and writing and eating ice cream and Mexican food whenever I want. I love going to church on Sundays and worshiping with my brothers and sisters. I love riding my bike because I feel like it, not because I need to be training. </div>
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Can racing fit into all of this? Perhaps. But to compete at the level of the ladies pictured above, it takes tremendous dedication. During my one season with them, my level of respect for what they do only increased.</div>
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(More pictures from Coldspring:)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">The fat bike competition proved to be a big hit.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85YvFHuTzpEdSYEoxvU0AJNHpSTF19PXYCgQrQUSgONSyZDMCIRst741g4AVkJChSiy18XXiDjnG7bJAKxvghI5nEdzaBWI3ZVzn-sjbxguszXWeZXm5BaTREHJrKtqZ0nV2CZ1Qazps/s1600/IMG_2716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj85YvFHuTzpEdSYEoxvU0AJNHpSTF19PXYCgQrQUSgONSyZDMCIRst741g4AVkJChSiy18XXiDjnG7bJAKxvghI5nEdzaBWI3ZVzn-sjbxguszXWeZXm5BaTREHJrKtqZ0nV2CZ1Qazps/s400/IMG_2716.jpg" width="300" /></a><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiL3fAhyphenhyphen7HK1Nlecm3VJEgwagHeawD0Q60qc6AWO70dYzj8bHEsxw1jK9IAECxMtM8dRwtaPimew11cMA2j3NiWj6V0p-DlK4kwWzdThlKns0NDcam_WmEr0EJlTG-97zf4R3MPxJ7g8I/s400/IMG_2723.jpg" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Ellie, #512, competes in her first ever mountain bike race.</span> <span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Alicia, Julie, and Alissa stand atop the Cat 1 podium.</span></span></td></tr>
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<b>8) Sugar Cycles, the Warda Race.</b><br />
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It wouldn't be the season finale without more adverse weather. Just weeks before the record rains of 2015 wrought Texas with devastating floods, we snuck in one last go 'round. Mother nature, though, was hinting at her grand entry.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">My bike before the Saturday pre-ride.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">My bike after the pre-ride. The sun shone, but not for long.</span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz75GHzyvbDZoHALzTNYi-Twzn6PcRCIYgHFUwNqqzqOQb6nmutmecfLJhyphenhyphen1d9kwsxIfQklBmnttAcKddgFydEyO2qEjhJszMTZgJhB4HhcY9EjwHa6Dz-98i7xSH3dZf_7-PiZ4n0HFM/s1600/IMG_2737.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz75GHzyvbDZoHALzTNYi-Twzn6PcRCIYgHFUwNqqzqOQb6nmutmecfLJhyphenhyphen1d9kwsxIfQklBmnttAcKddgFydEyO2qEjhJszMTZgJhB4HhcY9EjwHa6Dz-98i7xSH3dZf_7-PiZ4n0HFM/s320/IMG_2737.PNG" width="180" /></a><br />
Sunday morning, we were all glued to the radar. I took this screenshot a few hours before our noon race. If you can locate the blue dot, and then imagine the rainbow blob drifting east, that is what awaited us. Lightening, thunder, and a steady rain would abound, but the show rolled on for one final adventure.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Some of the guys line up in the slosh.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">I saved my pink kit for the finale. It wasn't pink for long.</span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5aDcXVANaux_OcwxGuRxyFosP79MncgwhksxUYTt_LIIKXwTrE3A52MbX4I3Kibwbq51aMLJmSGw6yvFB1N2LavtMy4q7UcPL9ALMyesJRFo717Lm9tXIKTsoYIVylykT6YhnjlZE9o/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG5aDcXVANaux_OcwxGuRxyFosP79MncgwhksxUYTt_LIIKXwTrE3A52MbX4I3Kibwbq51aMLJmSGw6yvFB1N2LavtMy4q7UcPL9ALMyesJRFo717Lm9tXIKTsoYIVylykT6YhnjlZE9o/s640/IMG_2741.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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An
adventure it was. Nine of us raced, and we all made it safely to the
finish line. In the series overall, Lisa defended her title, Fiona claimed second, and Sarah third. I had already wrapped up fourth before the Warda race, so I took the day and soaked it all in. </div>
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A big congrats to everyone who competed in the 2015 Spring TMBRA series, and a big thanks to all the volunteers and race directors who made it happen. It was definitely a season to remember. <br />
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Yours truly,<br />
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The poser.<br />
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A few outtakes from the season:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfEq_LtviFcB5iYUmncO-tYRK7tVqdjdRHCBHtVgaC4OyVFI4d9JPWzzEgvO-HSUcydacTJA8gWlbgSWuZGyop8r-HXJSxq-XNXt_-c1ZtMuooXzT871iX9LaG3hjW7wAFs9foihLKk0/s1600/IMG_2629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkfEq_LtviFcB5iYUmncO-tYRK7tVqdjdRHCBHtVgaC4OyVFI4d9JPWzzEgvO-HSUcydacTJA8gWlbgSWuZGyop8r-HXJSxq-XNXt_-c1ZtMuooXzT871iX9LaG3hjW7wAFs9foihLKk0/s400/IMG_2629.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlIp-YpOaMc-rzC-qvxUhepAhR5we0WQQhXxOX7gW2SYmb5Pn9S5mzurt863vj_gLWtdP7DbGBS8aR0dXVmVC5Std2_VIOh1Z1ajgByxN29Di6De5rRNg4tEDbuGTxcnvwXi_yGTUAdI8/s400/IMG_2736.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I hope that stuff in the pasture was all mud.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Sheree works on a drawing at an Austin hotel.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Lisa is interviewed by a local Abilene reporter.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A large field of Cat 3 racers await the start at Coldspring.</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">I raced with Lisa Hartman at the season finale. I hadn't seen her since Leadville in 2013. </span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Me and Sheree</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Alicia and Ellie</span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;">Warda winners: (left to right) Lisa, Fiona, Sam, and Kara Uhl. </span></span><br />
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<img alt="https://teamuranga.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/img_0237.jpg" class="shrinkToFit" height="603" src="https://teamuranga.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/img_0237.jpg" width="603" /><br />
<span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">2015 Pro Women's State Champion Series: me (4), Fiona (2), Lisa (1), Sarah (3)</span></span></td></tr>
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Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-77664883778869172872015-01-21T21:00:00.001-08:002015-11-26T17:50:22.692-08:00Leadville 100 MTB Training Plan <div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7766488377886917287" itemprop="description articleBody">
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<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-3oUCPQM-3C48I5YaUE_6QMDsASF-z9zzgYzLTPnw10VAFA0-CZIX8ot7kLJwCxfiZpbuSzHMn9OwmCOH0Xp3ilKAaBuZ0ytRMEMlWJf1r4bdbps1DvJFssobqX0WikoFiFPvvuD5dw/s1600/IMG_1429.JPG" width="320" /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Congratulations! </b>You just qualified for the Leadville 100! Now what?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">There is a lot of planning that goes into earning the silver buckle besides simply riding your bike. When I qualified in 2013, I was a bit frustrated when I googled "LT100 free training plan"
and came up with nothing. After reading and researching and eventually
racing, I wanted to offer what I could in an attempt to help anyone who
so desires get to the finish line. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Training 100 info........More than you ever cared to know</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I won't go into the actual <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/08/leadville-100-mtb-race_21.html">2013 <span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto;">Leadville</span> race</a> in this post, but will dedicate the space to dropping my training files. I say up front I am not a certified cycling coach, and this plan may not help you earn the sub-9 hour big buckle. But I do offer what the other plans don't: a full money back guarantee!!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSRCruUeljupjztSMBCGRxKWuIsm_AQhPU7s6wRvVG2VCECNiafiH-VSnDCXBehgwvABKVBPiyCZ36x4xvyjezVL9o6QwatWkL5igXzoeMy8M6xHPOXFdBqr0UvAWrPSxfM9bcW8MPY8k/s1600/IMG_1424.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSRCruUeljupjztSMBCGRxKWuIsm_AQhPU7s6wRvVG2VCECNiafiH-VSnDCXBehgwvABKVBPiyCZ36x4xvyjezVL9o6QwatWkL5igXzoeMy8M6xHPOXFdBqr0UvAWrPSxfM9bcW8MPY8k/s1600/IMG_1424.jpg" width="149" /></a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Assuming you have qualified, the first thing to do is acquire lodging. If you have not qualified, that is the first step. The <a href="http://www.leadvilleraceseries.com/"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto;">Leadville</span> series website</a>
has more information on how to enter the lottery, compete in qualifying
races, etc. (A lot of the information I reference in this article I
read on the "news" tab of the Leadville series website, like this article by Rebecca Rusch and Dave Weins called <a href="http://www.leadvilleraceseries.com/2014/07/dispatches-from-columbine-your-questions-answered-by-dave-wiens-rebecca-rusch/"><i>Dispatches from Columbine.)</i></a></span></span> <br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Lodging</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">The town of Leadville is
small, and lodging in town books up quickly. If all the hotels and
motels are booked already, your next best option is to go north to
Frisco/Breckenridge/Silverthorne/Vail or south to Buena Vista. Local
cabins, RV parks, and rooms for rent are other options. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Training</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Unless you have previous experience, the thought of pedaling your bike
for 10-12 hours at 10,000-12,000 feet can be daunting. With the right
preparation, it can be done. I will add- it can be done and the
experience actually enjoyed! </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtanlUir94plp2WUkPgd3B1-LAcHhVxSV92p3V_CL78pekPE9j2x4sukRdmtpdCpSlI62PNxhA7vh4w-vTsLXpYPfrVFeJiWn3XtfwGlup35QH3W-qg-m1Kv2rqVOwzyvxnLVlmzKBGmU/s1600/IMG_1361.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtanlUir94plp2WUkPgd3B1-LAcHhVxSV92p3V_CL78pekPE9j2x4sukRdmtpdCpSlI62PNxhA7vh4w-vTsLXpYPfrVFeJiWn3XtfwGlup35QH3W-qg-m1Kv2rqVOwzyvxnLVlmzKBGmU/s1600/IMG_1361.JPG" width="320" /></a>There are several training theories out there and more than one has proven to be successful. One simple plan I read for a sub-12 hour finish: aim to train 11 hours per week. The plan I formulated and attempted to follow was also based on weekly hours, but with a build and recover platform.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Many cycling coaches/plans use the periodization format, including the
two primary sources I referenced along my journey. The first is <a href="http://www.joefrielsblog.com/">Joe Friel's</a> book, <i>The Mountain Biker's Training Bible, </i>the second a weekly hour chart I found under the <a href="http://www.lifetimeendurance.com/products/item235.cfm">lifetime endurance</a> training tab of the LT100 website. (see picture below)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><img src="http://www.coachtroy.com/public/images/611f.jpg" height="265" width="640" /></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Using a calendar, work backwards from the LT100 race in late August and
write your hourly goals at the beginning of each week. The 16-week plan will begin early May.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Logging 8-10 hours a week is not an afterthought, so in the couple of months leading up to May, you need to be pre-training.
In other words, you should be preparing your body to handle the
endurance load you are about to put on it. This is a great time to do
some strength training to prevent injury. This is a good time to get your bike overhauled and fit by a professional. This is a good time to start
adjusting your diet so your fueling habits work in your favor. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">If you have zero background in bike racing, I would also recommend hitting up a local cross-country or
endurance race of some sort so you can practice starting with the
masses. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br />
In 2013, I started training hard about February. Leadville
was not on my radar yet, but I was preparing to compete in some
cross-country races. When those races ended in May, I switched my focus
from speed to endurance. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">My main goals in the 16 weeks were: 1) get on
my bike as often as possible, and 2) climb as much as possible.
Living in Texas where sustained climbs are hard to find, I had to get
creative. I did hill repeats on the road and visited the two trails in the
area with the most vertical gain as often as I could (Big Cedar and Sansom). I did hill repeats
at these trails as well. Did I mention to incorporate hill repeats?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Other workouts included endurance road and trail rides of 1:30-3:00
hours, with one longer ride a week as the race neared (see "key rides"
below), and plenty of recovery rides of :30-1:00. When my butt and mind
were tired of the bike, I hit the gym or did an alternative workout. (Especially when it was July and August in Texas). I agree training in the heat can be of some value for training for altitude. It stresses your body in similar ways as the altitude does. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8LObfeasIs17pGgMGdGRu8D0wE0kYdsuXCHCxYjqeRAVzK1QKuDcpUqflxWc4LvjdaFBOj2wcuOO8L35h48BAALzdj90cYpRhyphenhyphenHI7cbyPHljjZmpsyyTp57e43vSRul6CBGkRRyQ2dA/s1600/IMG_1470.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8LObfeasIs17pGgMGdGRu8D0wE0kYdsuXCHCxYjqeRAVzK1QKuDcpUqflxWc4LvjdaFBOj2wcuOO8L35h48BAALzdj90cYpRhyphenhyphenHI7cbyPHljjZmpsyyTp57e43vSRul6CBGkRRyQ2dA/s1600/IMG_1470.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Avoiding injury was another big focus for me. I acquired a foam roller
and learned a little yoga. I also listened closely to my body. If it was
fatigued beyond normal, I rested. If I was mentally fried, I rested.
Sometimes "resting" was a slow recovery ride, a flexibility session in
the air conditioned, or a long nap on my couch.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Below is the chart transposed to a linear set-up with my actual hours
and key rides from the week. I recorded how much elevation I gained each
week, which you will also find listed.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Week Hour Goal</b> <b>Actual hours </b> <b>Key rides</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 1 8 8</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 2 10 8.5 <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/05/tmbras-big-cedar-race-pedaling-on-prayer.html">Big Cedar TMBRA Race</a> (XC)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 3 11 11 4:00, 50 mi. trail/road ride</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 4 11-12 6.5 Warda TMBRA Race (XC)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 5 4 4 </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 6 10 13 4:15, 62 mi. road w/ hill repeats 3,300 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 7 12-13 11 5:55, 68 mi. <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/06/pictures-from-24-hours-in-canyon.html">Palo Duro Canyon 6 hr. race</a> 4,400 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 8 14 14.5 6:15, 35 mi. <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/06/flagstaff-and-albuquerque.html">Flagstaff, AZ</a> appx. 7,000 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> 4:15 <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/06/hiking-and-biking-in-idyllwild.html">Idyllwild, CA</a> 1:30 Tram road climb, CA 3,095 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 9 6 5</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 10 15 15 6:26, 75 mi, (road and trail, Austin, TX) 4,135 ft. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> 7:13, 71 mi, (31 road/40 mi. Big Cedar trail) 4,652 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 11 16 11 </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 12 16 14.5 6:35, 46 mi., <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/07/silver-rush-50-race-day.html">Silver Rush</a>, Leadville, CO 7,989 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> 4:00, 34 mi. <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/07/monarch-crest-to-silver-creek-to.html">Monarch Crest</a>, Salida, CO appx.3,000 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 13 16 9 2:00, 16 mi. <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/07/peaks-trail-frisco-to-breckenridge-co.html">Peaks Trail</a>, Breckenridge, CO 1,463 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 14 11 9</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 15 8 8</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Wk. 16 4-5 5 18 mi. Powerline pre-ride, 25 mi. Pipeline pre-ride </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">LT100 Race - - 11:07, 104 mi. 12,400 ft.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">A few observations from the information above: Several weeks I never hit the hourly goal. In fact, the 16 week training plan
tops out at 3 weeks in a row at 16 hours each. My hours during that
span? 11, 14.5, 9. In those key three weeks, I was 13 hours short! Oops.
<i>Please note: The training
chart is for "intermediate to advanced riders" so it is probably
designed for someone with a finish goal of 8 or 9 hours, not 11 or 12.</i> (I never paid the money to find out). </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">The longest ride I did leading up to the race was at the end of week 10
(7:13). The previous weekend I had done another long ride with some
friends in Austin (6:26), so even though I logged more hours in week 10
than any other, I actually took a big chunk of time in the middle of
that week to be completely off the bike. Consistency is better than being a weekend warrior, but as
long as you are getting close to your hourly goals, you can be flexible.
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">One last note that may not be obvious by looking at the chart: week
13-15 were mentally brutal for me. After peaking for the SilverRush
qualifier and then returning from the mountains of Colorado to the
suffocating heat of Texas, my motivation started wilting. All I wanted
to do was eat junk food and be lazy. Nevertheless, I did what I could to
hold on and thankfully came out okay. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I mention that as an encouragement to you, because at some point during your training,
you will probably encounter a rough patch. It might be a cold that
keeps you down for several days, or a work obligation you can't ignore.
It might be an unexpected family matter that is far more important than
your planned training ride,
or it might be lack of motivation like I faced in the waning weeks.
This is normal and doesn't mean your dreams of holding a buckle are
shot. The number of people who follow training plans to the exact letter are as slim as the air is thin on the top of Columbine. Speaking of...</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Acclimatizing</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">There is a lot of literature on the best way to prepare for a race at
altitude. It seems, according to the experts (Rebecca Rusch, Chris
Carmichael, Joe Friel), the best thing you can do is get to the altitude
three weeks early so your body can get past the deterioration phase,
acquire new red blood cells, and adapt. For many people, this simply is
not an option.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">The alternative recommendation is to arrive at altitude as late as
possible so your body doesn't have time to know what the heck is going
on, and you can supposedly finish the race before your body has any idea
what you did to it.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I spoke recently with a guy who trains under <a href="http://trainright.com/">Carmichael <span style="color: white;">Training</span> Systems</a>.
In 2015, he plans to get to the mountains several weeks early, but in
2013, he did the opposite. He flew in to Denver at 10:30 p.m. the night
before the race, drove to his hotel, assembled his bike, slept for 2 hours, and raced. He said he did okay until Columbine. (He still went home with a buckle, but his fitness was stronger than his finishing time reflected.)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I did exactly what everyone says NOT to do: I arrived in Colorado a week
before the race. Apparently there is a window (I heard it called a
trough) of 7-10 days where the body is breaking down and mal-adapting
before it rebounds. But for me, this plan made more sense than the rush hour plan.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">In the 11:05 it took me to finish the race, I can honestly say my body
felt good. I didn't feel lightheaded or sick. Previous ski and
backpacking trips to the mountains have given me enough personal
feedback of how my body responds to the altitude. Based on that
experience and my circumstances, this was my plan of attack:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I took two days to get there (appx. 14-15 hours from Fort Worth to Leadville
by car). This meant the process of going from sea-level to two miles
high was stretched out over 48 hours, with a good night's rest at about a
mile high.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6arApXDk62tVoZpChZhMWFNjeyhn3uayRwGChL90dbVOPJCSG9LdwwFBW97iHxhA2DluJjGI8faBs4s8kWSPsVP4x1kuT5GZIfSc12nK8RCxk0nFxoNdWAnouRti59z75J9Cv2zYpiQ/s1600/IMG_1317.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6arApXDk62tVoZpChZhMWFNjeyhn3uayRwGChL90dbVOPJCSG9LdwwFBW97iHxhA2DluJjGI8faBs4s8kWSPsVP4x1kuT5GZIfSc12nK8RCxk0nFxoNdWAnouRti59z75J9Cv2zYpiQ/s1600/IMG_1317.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I drank tons of water. I don't care what plan you follow, 100% of them
will tell you to hydrate or die. Avoid alcohol and caffeine they say (I
still had my coffee every morning and even a beer the night before the race, I just
always had a 32-oz bottle of water in the other hand).</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I took it easy the first two days after arriving in Leadville. (I cannot imagine stepping off a plane, grabbing my bike and racing. I always feel the most tired and sluggish my first day at altitude. Why would I want to race on that first day?)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Yv8uQ2F55VsLS8ta3lGEmcpNR0u_W5DHfC3HBVvOi1zK5IWH30o-ih7geQ_Kmkx2LBI3rUN5wP5nOybTLDQjwjnyGMsxyp1xeX8VryQoYButKu6jXa17Y_HCvCLlDeZ_HkN-JDxYBQ0/s1600/2007-01-07+04.47.37.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Yv8uQ2F55VsLS8ta3lGEmcpNR0u_W5DHfC3HBVvOi1zK5IWH30o-ih7geQ_Kmkx2LBI3rUN5wP5nOybTLDQjwjnyGMsxyp1xeX8VryQoYButKu6jXa17Y_HCvCLlDeZ_HkN-JDxYBQ0/s1600/2007-01-07+04.47.37.jpg" width="400" /></a>I
used the week to get mentally ready. In my opinion, here is where all
the difference lies. For me, this race is about the experience, not the
result. I didn't want to train my butt off for months, then have the
whole thing over within a mere 24 hours! I wanted to savor the whole
deal: the town of Leadville - shopping at the thrift stores, eating at the Golden Burrito, cruising to Cycles of Life bike shop and grabbing a pair of socks, talking to locals, fly fishing, pre-riding - more on that later.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">A few other random notes on acclimatizing. I followed Friel's advice and
altered my diet a little. Carbohydrates are easier for the body to
absorb and handle at altitude than protein, so I purposely held back on
meat and cheese the first several days and stuck with a lot of carbs.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">The last month before the race, I incorporated some super-high intensity
intervals. Pumping up the VO2 Max helps when you are about to be
starving for every bit of oxygen in thin air. A few sample workouts you
can do in the last few weeks: </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">1) 8-10 reps of 15-30 second intervals at all out max speed.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">2) 6-8 reps of 15-30 second hill climbs at all out max speed.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">3) 6-8 reps of 15-30 second sprints on a treadmill set to the highest incline. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">4) 6-8 100 yard sprints.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">5) 8-10 bleacher sprints. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Last word on altitude. If possible, get to the mountains once or twice in the months before the race. Going back to the training
chart above, you can see I got most of my climbing during road trips to
the mountains. I was fortunate to head west twice in the three months
before the LT100 in late August. The first road trip was to California
in June, where my husband and I took our bikes and rode trails along the
way. The second was the trip to the SilverRush 50 in July. I know for
certain this played a huge role in preparing my body and mind for racing
at altitude.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Taking multiple summer road trips isn't possible for everyone, but even
taking a few weekend trips to 4,000-5,000 feet and spending a couple of
days riding and sleeping at minor altitude may help.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Last last word on the subject. Accept the fact that your body is going
to have a harder time breathing than normal. Focus on taking long slow
breaths, in your nose, out your mouth. Do this in the race AND in your
day, days, or weeks prior. Don't redline your heart on St. Kevin's
climb; do follow Rebecca Rusch's advice - start at a slower pace than
your body wants to go. At the turn around, if you're feeling good, turn
it up and pass all the people who blew up too early. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Bike Set-Up</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Full suspension or hardtail? Take your pick. Both are represented out there, and both do fine. Here is a good article from <a href="http://velonews.competitor.com/2011/08/news/leadville-100-choosing-the-right-bike_19493">Velo News</a>
in 2011 where several of the top guys were even on 26ers. Whatever you
have, keep it tuned up. Remember to tip those mechanics who will probably be
back home wrenching when you are crossing the finish line in all your
glory:) I know if it wasn't for my <a href="http://bicyclesinc.com/">local <span style="color: white;">bike</span> shop</a>, I wouldn't have enjoyed a mechanical-free finish.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNhMSnu8U42Yaf2dtOCkAc_ltggCEUCWUvDNQWv5uPOaCmcfAa-lMVgyWxT4jZhe7oc3J11RxQMVYRu7MyzjhJOOK9UwAb7ZiI7gVL8hZM5paJUsxbUAUp_CsCV9G2Tyep_ekcIExTBU/s1600/IMG_1442.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNhMSnu8U42Yaf2dtOCkAc_ltggCEUCWUvDNQWv5uPOaCmcfAa-lMVgyWxT4jZhe7oc3J11RxQMVYRu7MyzjhJOOK9UwAb7ZiI7gVL8hZM5paJUsxbUAUp_CsCV9G2Tyep_ekcIExTBU/s1600/IMG_1442.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I was on a <a href="http://www.specialized.com/us/en/bikes/archive/2012/epic/epicexpertcarbon29">2012 full-suspension Specialized Epic </a>29er. I rode the bike
stock, so you can click on the specs to see anything I leave out. The
drive train was 2x10 with 38/24 chain rings and that seemed to be a good
set up. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">For tires, I ran Specialized FastTraks. 2.2 on the front and 2.0 on the
rear (tubeless). Tire pressure was 27 psi. front and 29 psi. in the
rear. (For 150 lb. rider).</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I wondered if I should lube my chain during the race or not. I lubed it
the night before and that was it. The course was not muddy or super
dusty, so I wouldn't worry about this unless you have a crew who can hit
your chain while you are refueling. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Race Day Equipment</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I carried a 100 oz. Camelbak and filled it half-way with water to save
weight. I refilled it at Columbine (so it was the lightest on the
longest climb). If there was anything I would do different, it would be
to go easier on the water during the race. My previous weeks of training
had been in the extreme Texas heat, and I drank a bunch to acclimatize,
but I failed to slow down my intake in the last 24 hours and during the
race I had to stop 4 times to pee. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Also in my backpack was an extra tube, tire lever, two CO2 cartridges,
small pump, allen wrench set, extra chain link, a few chammy butter
packets (which I did use), chapstick, zip ties, shower cap, and my rain
jacket. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Fuel</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">You hear it a bunch because it is true. Make sure you dial in your
nutrition before the race. Find out what works, what your stomach can
handle, etc.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Several months before the race, I went by my LBS and grabbed a sample
packet of about every kind of electrolyte mix available. When I settled
on the one I liked, I bought the huge container of it.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">My water bottle had a mix of an electrolyte and endurance
fuel (half Strawberry Hammer Heed and half Strawberry/Vanilla Hammer
Perpetuem). I had three extra bottles of the same mix in my aid bag,
but didn't use it all. I also took two kinds of electrolyte gels to
change up the flavor. If you are a cramper, electrolyte tablets might be
a good idea because they pack small.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">For solid food, I took bonk bars, honey stinger waffles, and fig
newtons. Again, Ms. Rusch says to bring something you enjoy eating for a
mental treat (I thought about peanut butter M&M's...)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">More repeats from the race article: Eat
early in the race. It’s hard to eat when you are
climbing or descending, and when you get tired. The relatively flat section
between Powerline and Pipline, and Pipeline and Twin Lakes are good
places to fuel on the bike.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">If you are a math person, here is a formula for you: aim to get in at least 300 calories an hour. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I also took 3 sport leg tablets every few hours, as well as some Aleve a couple of times. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Even if you hate carrying a Camelbak like I do, but you plan on doing so at Leadville, make yourself ride with it the last month or so before the race so you are used to the extra weight come race day.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Clothing</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I started the race in shorts (not bibs, shorts = faster pit stops) and a
short-sleeved jersey. Most people had arm warmers, knee warmers, etc.
but I knew I would get hot on the first climb and opted to go light. I
was wearing a warm beanie, though, and took it off when the sun came
out. I also wore wool socks, which I highly recommend.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">One thing I haven't discussed is weather. 2013 was a lucky year and
there was more sunshine than anything else. I had extra clothes in my
aid station bag in case it got nasty, but never had to use them. (If you
were wondering what the shower cap is for, it is to keep your head dry
in case it rains. That is from Ms. Rusch, I'm not that smart.)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">At the top of Columbine, I put my jacket on for the long descent. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Race Strategy: What to Pre-ride (if possible)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Pre-ride the start and the finish. They are different, so if you return
the way you came you will miss your turn. The course is pretty well
marked if you pay attention, but I always feel better when I have a good
feel for the first few miles. It takes the edge off my nerves.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">You can pre-ride the start from town, going directly into St. Kevin's
climb. Riding St. Kevin's will help you acclimatize (I did it on day 3)
and help you mentally prepare for the first climb you will see in the
race. You can turn around at Carter Summit mini aid station around mile
9. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77nP7F52P6Ssse_K_Q77PLYgSveF0xg9ekb5vQVZ2ti9f4gXTfqb0o4RQZFsMC9lRQBiCoTo9PreonA1PXqWmP-3E2hvNA43UFv9V1-75xpv7Cbfm72y1VC7NqLX1VnxecZZCO_kKJbI/s1600/IMG_1533.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh77nP7F52P6Ssse_K_Q77PLYgSveF0xg9ekb5vQVZ2ti9f4gXTfqb0o4RQZFsMC9lRQBiCoTo9PreonA1PXqWmP-3E2hvNA43UFv9V1-75xpv7Cbfm72y1VC7NqLX1VnxecZZCO_kKJbI/s1600/IMG_1533.jpg" width="240" /></a>On
day 4, I pre-rode Powerline. In my opinion, so many people make a big
deal about the Powerline climb and descent that no one mentions the
several miles before it (outbound), which deserve a little respect. One
way to pre-ride this is to park at the Pipeline Aid station (you will
want to find where all of those are anyhow if you have a pit crew) and
ride backward. This gives you some flat section to warm up on (visualize
yourself drafting on this same section during the race-don't get caught
on the flats alone), then climb Powerline, keep going a few more miles
to see the backside of Sugarloaf where the less mentioned technical
section is. I would turn around before you start the major descent of
Sugarloaf (or you get to climb back up).</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Descend Powerline and return to your vehicle. Remember Powerline will be
crowded come race day, so you may not be able to pick that perfect
line. Number one priority is to make it down the thing safely. Another
repost of something I read: "You won't win the race on the descent, but
you sure can lose it."</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Those were the pre-rides I did and I think it was sufficient. I didn't
pre-ride Colombine and I don't feel like I was unprepared. If you want
to follow my crazy 1 week acclimatizing <span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto; color: black;">plan</span>, then at this point you can kick your feet up for the next three days and go fly fishing. (Save for a few easy spins.) </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Aid Stations </b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">The aid stations are very crowded. I totally missed my pick up at
Pipeline and ate my back-up fuel bag early (at least my camelbak was
lighter). Communicate well with your crew. Have them wear bright colors
or even better, have a tall flag that is easy to recognize. Drive to all
the stations the week of and discuss the approximate location for
hand-ups (i.e. which side of the trail and beginning/middle/or end).
Make sure your crew knows your splits and approximate times. If you get
in a bind, there are lots of folks willing to help. I bummed
electrolyte drink mix twice. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Your crew can set up at Pipeline and Twin Lakes. Carter Summit has water
(and maybe electrolyte drink) available. I would plan to skip this
station to get ahead of more of the crowd. On Columbine, the volunteers
are amazing and will have liquid and a few snacks available.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Time Splits </b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Below are the aid stations, their mile mark on the course, and the race
promoter's suggested time splits for 8 through 12 hour finishes. Stop by
the Herbalife base camp when you get to town to get a detailed chart.
It will also include an elevation profile.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br />
<i>Finish Goal:</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"> <i> <u> 8 hrs. 9 hrs. 10 hrs. 11 hrs. 12 hrs. </u> </i></span></span> <br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Carter Summit: (8/9 mi.) -
- - - -</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Pipeline: (27 mi.) 1:45 2:00
2:15 2:25 2:35</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Twin Lakes Dam: (40 mi.) 2:30 2:50 3:10 3:25 3:40</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Columbine: (51 mi.) 4:00 4:35 5:00 5:40 6:15</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Twin Lakes Dam: (60 mi.) 4:35 5:15 5:45 6:35 7:05</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Pipeline: (75 mi.) 5:30 6:20
6:50 7:50 8:15</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Carter Summit: (93 mi.) -
- - 9:45 10:30</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Finish Line: (104 mi.) - -
- 11:00 12:00
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVaK-Vrlg7FOTy9N3W7dh-kJxI4VeNMuwupL_KEu4lmMGA7-K8jiS4YalNGYj-mNqu7-E9MLSzhJtERpW-3_7L04F3zvfU5y13HDadDd3MsQXhsCv9y8uJdyLsgtFIl4L5813h9pn0Y1w/s1600/IMG_1582.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVaK-Vrlg7FOTy9N3W7dh-kJxI4VeNMuwupL_KEu4lmMGA7-K8jiS4YalNGYj-mNqu7-E9MLSzhJtERpW-3_7L04F3zvfU5y13HDadDd3MsQXhsCv9y8uJdyLsgtFIl4L5813h9pn0Y1w/s1600/IMG_1582.jpg" width="480" /></a></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">If you're wondering why the pink duct tape has totally different numbers than the chart, it is because I made a few alterations.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">First, I only used the 11 and 12 hour times. Most people have a goal time that falls within a one hour window. To
eliminate so many numbers to look at, I only wrote those two splits. My hope was to be close to the first and under the
second. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Second, I converted the splits from accumulated hours to actual clock/time of day time. I was using a basic bike computer that stops running when my bike is not moving. Who wants to do math at all the aid stations or keep a separate clock? Not me.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Since the shotgun blast goes off at 6:30 a.m. to start the official
clock, I based everything off of this. For an 11 hour finish, I wanted
to be at Pipeline by 8:55 a.m., Columbine at 12:10 p.m., etc.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">During the race, I left my computer on clock mode, not accumulated time
or miles. An extra benefit to this strategy was to help me stay stronger
mentally. I did not want to look down and see that I had been riding
for 5 hours but still had 6 long hours to go. I did not want to look
down and see I had ridden for 40 miles but still had over 60 to go. Yes,
I clicked modes a few times to see how far and how long I had gone, but
mostly I tried to focus on enjoying the race and getting to the next
aid station by the first time of day listed in pink.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">One last alteration I made to the provided splits was actually an
addition. It scared me to have the last time split (Pipeline) be almost 4
hours and 30 miles
away from the finish, with no way to check if I was dropping off my
pace significantly. So I added Carter Summit to the list and
guesstimated the time. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><b>Miscellaneous</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">A few last things that helped: </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">To get a good mental picture of the course before I ever made it to Leadville, and to visualize the sections I did not pre-ride, I watched "Race Across the Sky" on youtube. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">I also joined the LT100 yahoo group. This lets you listen in on valuable
conversation between new and veteran riders. You will get weather
reports, ideas on tire selection and gearing, etc. If you see a post by
"justartok" pay close attention. It's a guy named Art who has finished Leadville 10 times. He is also the guy who marks the course.
lt100bike@yahoogroups.com</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;">Best of luck my friend!! Enjoy the ride! </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #666666;"><span style="color: white;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelWy_LiPpjan3Xq2NQmI6L6eXYJgRwbZs7um-SImnPWr9o0zCVCdDSyt5C8srOCww8pWJvqGnXofdKRPn9o8S9ACm3T2SEsXYg2YdwEyBL1n5XDW0bpy8kCvx3YtgB2r1axo4gGJHkis/s1600/IMG_1372.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelWy_LiPpjan3Xq2NQmI6L6eXYJgRwbZs7um-SImnPWr9o0zCVCdDSyt5C8srOCww8pWJvqGnXofdKRPn9o8S9ACm3T2SEsXYg2YdwEyBL1n5XDW0bpy8kCvx3YtgB2r1axo4gGJHkis/s1600/IMG_1372.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTrCSGuY6ahdA7NM7x8J-b-p_gffYPJD5jHmg9iUsHKhmNW5Mln4HzP0WZv1WK28HlHDz-nwplU17o2tx-SeFcV9K_TAKJsRONoZKcJrAc4BvSDnxPXKK6VMtNVe6hyrZsEYC1bzMzoQ/s1600/IMG_1373.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsTrCSGuY6ahdA7NM7x8J-b-p_gffYPJD5jHmg9iUsHKhmNW5Mln4HzP0WZv1WK28HlHDz-nwplU17o2tx-SeFcV9K_TAKJsRONoZKcJrAc4BvSDnxPXKK6VMtNVe6hyrZsEYC1bzMzoQ/s1600/IMG_1373.jpg" width="239" /></a></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwV9yMx4jcebqjsQF40qtLfiA3jOl8qHy3NYFP_Zj5kFxmZRBdfzcIhX5hUm70EHMU2Q8I7eshrCR_2c0TKBGwSQXubwdCrBL14WfoRPtPBUIOgGaizscFz7C2S1mNSs1JKJ6BKMnZPY/s1600/IMG_2503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwV9yMx4jcebqjsQF40qtLfiA3jOl8qHy3NYFP_Zj5kFxmZRBdfzcIhX5hUm70EHMU2Q8I7eshrCR_2c0TKBGwSQXubwdCrBL14WfoRPtPBUIOgGaizscFz7C2S1mNSs1JKJ6BKMnZPY/s1600/IMG_2503.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
I saw this guy (and two other bobcats) the other day at River Legacy trail in Arlington. If I was feeling creative, I could put some good captions with this.<br />
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Indigo Bunting (Knob Hills trail)</div>
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Painted Bunting (Knob Hills trail)</div>
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<img alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/50/Painted_Bunting_741119461.jpg" height="266" id="yui_3_5_1_4_1418354949088_864" style="height: 528px; width: 793px;" width="400" /> </div>
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Western Tanager (Rainbow trail: Salida, Colorado)</div>
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*Bird photos from wikipedia.</div>
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This is probably the favorite of all the animals I have seen from a bicycle. Monarch Crest Trail, Colorado. </div>
<img alt="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdINGfAO2wveEjJ7fI2OzivS1BeVISI83UfJ31Aa5rKL1mIakSjDjxf5k5rSb8kYmdkR9XPh7vQ56Eti180mYMpOBe3ajn2ECaeHzQc9mKlmfsJcpybw1mAFUWnL_EVtdWdbB8oVuz8M/s1600/DSC02963.JPG" class="shrinkToFit" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdINGfAO2wveEjJ7fI2OzivS1BeVISI83UfJ31Aa5rKL1mIakSjDjxf5k5rSb8kYmdkR9XPh7vQ56Eti180mYMpOBe3ajn2ECaeHzQc9mKlmfsJcpybw1mAFUWnL_EVtdWdbB8oVuz8M/s1600/DSC02963.JPG" height="603" width="804" />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-16194892122518970742014-11-16T08:43:00.004-08:002014-11-16T16:50:32.887-08:00Ladies' Day!<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: black;"><span style="background-color: white;">The</span></span></i></span> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="background-color: cyan;">Women's Maintenance and Skills Clinic</span> hosted <span style="background-color: yellow;">by <span style="color: red;">Bicycles Inc.</span></span></b></span></span></span><i> on <span style="font-size: large;">Saturday, November 15th</span>, was a <span style="font-size: large;">big success</span>!! And <span style="font-size: large;">lots of fun</span>!!</i><br />
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<i>Leslie clears the log pile. Lauren and Andrea change a flat. </i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbTcIN3epQ1zjx-YV_o9ajSIRr7BCk4eoju1aaiqtvOCnVbRw8eVCsAIuTMw1tmdePhbWfBx7Uv16GQ6_iqcBI-t2K2x4c75ldyFzUNB95ByYFf0uJppE_35CRLAfXXIe4wl2yEkHdRA/s1600/IMG_2446.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbTcIN3epQ1zjx-YV_o9ajSIRr7BCk4eoju1aaiqtvOCnVbRw8eVCsAIuTMw1tmdePhbWfBx7Uv16GQ6_iqcBI-t2K2x4c75ldyFzUNB95ByYFf0uJppE_35CRLAfXXIe4wl2yEkHdRA/s1600/IMG_2446.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6muWUoRwXuUvRi6YmEgyVkTh1Etc8wfz6SuBwPcF9wuGyKqj_lzmJjy0QML-vkgp5pik6K3ZY5ke-w8Rw3TtuJynM8yK8rh3bpEYPPwtxHVy77SaJA9dYu-K4qDV4ZVV1626OM-KEsfQ/s1600/IMG_2486.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6muWUoRwXuUvRi6YmEgyVkTh1Etc8wfz6SuBwPcF9wuGyKqj_lzmJjy0QML-vkgp5pik6K3ZY5ke-w8Rw3TtuJynM8yK8rh3bpEYPPwtxHVy77SaJA9dYu-K4qDV4ZVV1626OM-KEsfQ/s1600/IMG_2486.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
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<i>Below: Chris, Stacy, Julie, and Patrisha talk it over.</i><br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJSPg79idam6CJXQ_61-H76dJcNoMlryYMVhvcsjqeTE9ti8Jg3iwMRG95niXf36BYX0vtDqH6H_eud9Yy1BGj7sM3O7t-q7_JDCs5lKuEE5LyddOdyxcvekeu6pVTqmk5gGxU8Dzu1n8/s1600/IMG_2441.JPG" height="480" width="640" /><br />
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<a name='more'></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBC6JUyQOCcKRiDTJ30dLsdyEgLh2ny-qFjjNYHUge0QndRXRkgiXaco9A-W3fHepyzdEppBOF7FEhl-_N7a8H8IKrMvQpypGVqIzC2WCfJpcsD_cg5_ln_ywDdbxW9PYSBMrbo-ahQ8/s1600/IMG_2439.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><i>April and Leslie get ready to work on their bike.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBC6JUyQOCcKRiDTJ30dLsdyEgLh2ny-qFjjNYHUge0QndRXRkgiXaco9A-W3fHepyzdEppBOF7FEhl-_N7a8H8IKrMvQpypGVqIzC2WCfJpcsD_cg5_ln_ywDdbxW9PYSBMrbo-ahQ8/s1600/IMG_2439.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBC6JUyQOCcKRiDTJ30dLsdyEgLh2ny-qFjjNYHUge0QndRXRkgiXaco9A-W3fHepyzdEppBOF7FEhl-_N7a8H8IKrMvQpypGVqIzC2WCfJpcsD_cg5_ln_ywDdbxW9PYSBMrbo-ahQ8/s1600/IMG_2439.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Cristie demonstrates how to take off the front wheel.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JT42XFNynalzRPyJP5HHXpD6awKFAwBnOS9ORfWFOZY26NEzHmpw7ZYYfrrGSpjyHB9u5M1yFKajEHDFvOPGoQdT4xmpmQlEqp5R4ky_nsTB6kI1BSjfGzST6pOMl8rKRQWixKX8o3M/s1600/IMG_2443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JT42XFNynalzRPyJP5HHXpD6awKFAwBnOS9ORfWFOZY26NEzHmpw7ZYYfrrGSpjyHB9u5M1yFKajEHDFvOPGoQdT4xmpmQlEqp5R4ky_nsTB6kI1BSjfGzST6pOMl8rKRQWixKX8o3M/s1600/IMG_2443.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i>Julie and Patrisha roll right along.</i><br />
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<i> Lewis, Brenda, and Chris get ready to take the clinic to the dirt.</i><br />
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJT_r67zPW3cMy9DJl6-hwP1HnH7TC0w9s9lv4VJPbwvk4jmby9s6yDcLVOJYOjaavX9c3y-sc1zRCXSQ5VWa74x-CX2z_d-MzVOG7mpQ_3_kMx-VphfoVX3Jy-UCRLQakOm4Rrod-6zk/s1600/IMG_2494.JPG" height="480" width="640" /><br />
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<i>River Legacy...here we are!</i></div>
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<i>Chris tears up the trail on her Trek Verve (who said that bike was only for pavement?) </i><br />
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<i>Cristie discusses how to drop into a trail.</i><br />
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<i>And Leslie drops into the trail!</i><br />
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<i>Chris sports her new Bontrager winter gloves and her great riding spirit.</i><br />
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<i>The fearless leader and her assistant.</i><br />
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<i>A large group from DORBA (Dallas Off-Road Bike Association) was in full force on the trail. They were also conducting a skills clinic.</i><br />
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<i>Chris would not be denied the chance to bunny hop the pipe.</i><br />
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<i>Lewis waited patiently all day for his lady. What a gentleman. </i><br />
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<span style="background-color: cyan;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: small;">For more information on other group rides and clinics, check out the <span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: yellow;"><a href="http://bicyclesinc.com/about/join-bicycles-inc-at-these-events-pg437.htm">Bikes Inc.</a></span></span> calendar or the <span style="background-color: cyan;"><a href="http://www.dorba.org/forum/">DORBA</a></span> rider forum. </span></span></span></div>
Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-54413565519218379272014-09-24T09:37:00.002-07:002014-11-16T16:51:10.446-08:002014 North Texas Kids' Triathlon<b>Swim, bike, run. Kids?</b><br />
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Yep. 553 of them. All splashing and pedal mashing and dashing their way across the UTA campus in a glorious day of youthful fun. On Sunday, September 14th, the 2014 North Texas Kid’s Triathlon invited kids, ranging in age from 6 to15 years, to participate in the USAT sanctioned race. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXTuPw4rKmFdVhUDX7UZkOWlfQxb7dTHx7egzGEk-Jgj3UBIBmjUmt9VdGIykBRhLqMg_xeuPhdN-JWz6COoYLbEP5i-HSlTogcMU8QMWf-bxgEyMJ6dNl1WZGkvgLHbdF14zYDJn8GA/s1600/IMG_2391.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXTuPw4rKmFdVhUDX7UZkOWlfQxb7dTHx7egzGEk-Jgj3UBIBmjUmt9VdGIykBRhLqMg_xeuPhdN-JWz6COoYLbEP5i-HSlTogcMU8QMWf-bxgEyMJ6dNl1WZGkvgLHbdF14zYDJn8GA/s1600/IMG_2391.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a><br />
The event is organized each year by the non-profit Kids’ Triathlon, Inc. and is run entirely by volunteers. According to the event website, <a href="http://www.northtexaskidstriathlon.org/">http://www.northtexaskidstriathlon.org</a>, “what started as a dream of three women who wanted to create a fun, healthy event for kids has blossomed into the Best Kids Triathlon in the World. It is also one of the three largest in the United States.”<br />
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Not only does the North Texas Kids’ Triathlon provide a communal opportunity for kids to be active, it also promotes one of the fastest growing sports in the world. In an effort to make the experience positive and hopefully repeated, the event promoters offer free, hands on clinics for the numerous beginning participants and families who are new to the world of triathlons. The educational sessions are led by professional coaches and top triathletes from the area.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRwkIVpD1hpcTKBrUWraB7oUD9YAxG_K1TYPH7F1VZ-IKyFDm1ky7qAhKEIT2GcKXnIloCsOeA8nkTIoEM9BnMU8zKR6YP_1KuJ04oGWFGG2wl8adABU8c5yxZ9iQs-pq7OiddTLMOGc/s1600/IMG_2390.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRwkIVpD1hpcTKBrUWraB7oUD9YAxG_K1TYPH7F1VZ-IKyFDm1ky7qAhKEIT2GcKXnIloCsOeA8nkTIoEM9BnMU8zKR6YP_1KuJ04oGWFGG2wl8adABU8c5yxZ9iQs-pq7OiddTLMOGc/s1600/IMG_2390.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>A pre-race pep rally, led in part by Rowdy (the Dallas Cowboy’s mascot), fired up the eager competitors for their swim, bike, and run. The juniors took off first, swimming 100 meters, biking 3 miles, then running half a mile. The older athletes competed next, covering double each of the three distances.<br />
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Cheering families and volunteers were waiting at the finish line with medals for all. Afterwards, those with energy to spare visited the bounce house and trampolines and enjoyed fellowship with other young competitors and all the supporting cast who made the day possible. Congratulations to all the kids who competed, keep it up! And a special thanks to all the parents and volunteers who helped give these kids a tri!<br />
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I met Desiree and her mom at Bikes Inc. a month or so ago. This was Desiree's first triathlon. She did fantastic! It was truly inspiring to see her
bravery and her skills in all of the disciplines. I think she had the largest cheering section of all! Her mom Carol was one of the numerous parents who volunteered and helped make the event happen. <br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfz-5BiOXDy2onwTFp9pPVNrHdymQ9H-GnXav0absvuF2xCOaugF6lgPkGfluptsPl7BHDga1eQJj4bUe81KTVMlGD6seBTnNj0egL3D3zSt1T4-KFf0JqSrLXVXI_Yc2vHwsJ6DPImSw/s1600/IMG_2389.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></div>
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Desiree and her swim coach.<br />
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Desiree and her bike coach:)<br />
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F1.bp.blogspot.com%2F-7UoZn_QifgI%2FVCLxnITUYQI%2FAAAAAAAACsA%2FURzc_TLLz7k%2Fs1600%2FIMG_2398.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlbeY9P4nA0YpPNHMYdwL547UoaD-GnOCZQQGeEbd15p14UwAhGtvNh1YlyO8Z-IwfjEnnzi4zzCH3GjKNmKatHVo8VMpkEZrMy1AmSLDUYrUQEZdmG8QjkLVswTfUl_abNRGG4Fat08/s1600/IMG_2398.jpg" -->Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-55070196941638862722014-07-08T07:40:00.002-07:002014-11-16T16:51:36.205-08:00Family Rides, Jogging for Judah, and HaitiIt is crazy to think where I was exactly one year ago...somewhere in Leadville, Colorado, training for the biggest cycling event of my life. I haven't lined up at an organized event in almost a year, but nonetheless have had a blast riding just for the sake of riding. My mom has even got the riding bug! <br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56yKku4MKlD3QIIpQdDxNBKiUPoQZtrdR8KNxUQPdgG4RMKw8pw8LLi7iGi9fdZggQaZ9jDOIGwbZ8vF-C6WB61F1_zxJch7jFDRe-ovoSUSBgSFSSnt9NvExpUAPONnUbLttJXe542w/s1600/IMG_2298.jpg" height="480" width="640" />Riding with Mark and Laura during our 6th annual WOFF (Weekend of Family Fun).<br />
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The big "racing" event of the summer was the 3rd annual Jogging for Judah 5k run in Stephenville. All the proceeds
go to a chosen family to help with adoption. This year, my sister's
family was chosen! It was incredible to see so many people come out and
show their support. Zeke ran the mile run
and came in 2nd place! Mati completed her first 5k and met her goal of
running the whole way. I had my work cut out to keep up with those long
legs!<br />
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Less than 2 weeks later, our whole family boarded a plane for Haiti to meet Marlee and Jett. My sister was taking her 5th trip to the country where she and her husband are adopting. Mati and Zeke were flying to meet their new siblings in person for the first time ever.<br />
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(Aaron delivered some medical supplies for a friend...besides a over-sized bag fee, they made it through. I still think I should have traveled in the bag and saved an extra plane ticket.)<br />
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Kids meeting for the first time.<br />
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View from the Bethel House, where Marlee and Jett stay with the other orphans and Dr. B and his loving staff. Praise God they are in some loving hands as they wait to be adopted. </div>
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It was very hard to say bye (see you later). We are praying for the day this family will be together for good. This is what life is all about.Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-62506451168802492592013-12-29T16:53:00.004-08:002014-11-16T16:52:20.539-08:00 Merry Christmas from Taos!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><b>Andress' family Christmas: Taos, New Mexico </b></i></div>
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View from the kitchen window</div>
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L to R: Jan B, Laura, Brennan, Andrew, Adam, me, Aaron</div>
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Skiin big pow </div>
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Granny's purple hat worn with pride</div>
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2 Brothers</div>
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3 Brothers</div>
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Laura and her mom, Jan</div>
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Go Jan B!!</div>
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Go Laura!!</div>
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Some dang good pizza</div>
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Guard dog</div>
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Aaron and I</div>
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Christmas goodies</div>
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U-man and Uncle A</div>
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A walk in the park</div>
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Carolyn and I</div>
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Bald Eagle!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy holidays friends!!</span></span></div>
Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-90821693105632931652013-11-13T18:24:00.003-08:002013-12-29T17:16:30.748-08:00FriendsTwo nights ago I was so blessed to meet up with 3 teammates from college I hadn't seen in a long while. We caught up on life. Old stories were told, as well as new ones revolving around some of the girls' own kids. My favorite was of Shara's 6 year-old son. She was telling us how much he is like her. (She interluded with the story of when she went into the office of our college coach to renew her scholarship and shot him with a water gun. He sent her out, contract unsigned. She signed it later.) Anyways, her son was playing goalie in a soccer game. When the ball finally came his way, Shara turned to cheer him on and encourage him to be ready. His head was caught in the net.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>We laughed. We also laughed as Lynsie told us about her journey as the new head coach at a large public school. I could imagine her 6'3 frame leaning down to talk to some of the sassy little girls who think they know more than the seasoned coach with college coaching experience.<br />
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In the middle of a hectic week, it was a beautiful gift to see these friends of a lifetime. Even though we don't see each other near as much as we want, when we get together it is almost like the grueling practices and memories made happened yesterday. We're all in our thirties now (I'm the oldest of this particular group and even though I'm nearing 35, they thought I was nearing 40. That was funny, too.) We lose track of our age and where we are living and working. And they give me grief for not being on facebook. <br />
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I have been reflecting on those friendships the past few days and feel like I'm one of the richest persons on the planet. I have great friends and great memories that will last the decades. It's deeply comforting to me that the fires we walked through together is what forged our bond strong enough that no time can separate it. We all have our own lives now and different daily circles of friends. I couldn't help but thinking of the simple adage "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold." It is true. I'm so thankful for friends.<br />
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<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-43399442425961191612013-11-01T09:11:00.005-07:002013-11-01T09:24:08.560-07:00New Record by Rebecca Rusch<a href="http://www.redbull.com/us/en/bike/stories/1331589120288/rebecca-rusch-kokopelli-trail-record">Enjoy the journey</a>: Rebecca's record breaking solo ride on the Kokopelli trail<br />
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(Picture from Red Bull website) <br />
<img alt="Mountain bike cross country rider Rebecca Rusch on a trail" class="responsive " data-caption="" data-copyright="Red Bull" data-dimensions="3x2" data-src="http://image2.redbull.com/rbcom/010/2013-04-10/1331585875560_1/0010/1/{w}/{h}/1/rebecca-rusch-powers-through-yet-another-trail.jpg" src="http://image2.redbull.com/rbcom/010/2013-04-10/1331585875560_1/0010/1/800/533/1/rebecca-rusch-powers-through-yet-another-trail.jpg" style="visibility: visible;" title="Rebecca Rusch powers through yet another trail" />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-6462460249345818462013-10-18T20:40:00.000-07:002013-11-01T06:59:59.299-07:00Tour de Pink 2013: West Coast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Pictures from West Coast Tour de Pink, 2013... Team Guacamole Nachos rides on! </div>
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The 120-140 riders this year (3 day riders, plus a couple dozen 1 day riders) raised over $420, 000 for the Young Survival Coalition for this year's tour and more donations are still coming. Powerful stuff. I can't say thanks enough to those who supported Stephanie and I. We hit our $5,000 mark between the two of us yesterday! And all the awesome women who are getting much needed help and support say thanks, too.<br />
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<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-65224717312659792662013-09-14T15:10:00.003-07:002013-10-16T09:44:27.869-07:00Tour de Pink: 2013The Tour de Pink is two days away!! The event benefits the Young Survival Coalition, which supports young women in their fights against breast cancer. Last year, our team of four (Team Guacamole Nachos) raised almost $11,000 for the YSC. We rode for 3 days in California with fellow cyclists, many of whom were breast cancer survivors. <br />
<br />
This year, Stephanie and I are headed back for more. We are excited to reunite with many of the amazing women we met a year ago and once again do our part to raise money and awareness to this cause. We are extremely close to raising our goal this year of $5,000. THANK YOU to all who have donated. Many women are going to be blessed, strengthened and encouraged through your generosity. <br />
<br />
Stay tuned to lifeandbike for daily recaps and pictures of the Tour. <br />
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If you are interested in making a donation, there is a link on the sidebar at the right.<br />
<br />
To see what this event is all about, check out this video the YSC made of last year's West Coast Tour. Keep an eye out for Team Guacamole Nachos! (You can also type "Tour de Pink" in the search box for pictures from 2012)<br />
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<br />Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-22807181098361587122013-09-09T17:01:00.001-07:002013-09-09T17:10:47.720-07:00It's in you.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #625719; font-family: Verdana;">“</span><span style="color: #0c0c26; font-family: Palatino;">Our deepest fear is not that we
are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is
our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I
to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you <i>not</i> to
be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There
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around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make
manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's
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people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Nelson Mandela</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-86430262851072895272013-08-26T20:17:00.002-07:002016-08-05T15:04:41.314-07:00Hotter 'N Hell summed up in one word: Why?Yes, it really is ridiculously hot. Like "I think I want to die, it is so hot" hot. And 2013 was even a mild year! My thoughts on the day include a mini rant on the sanity of the whole
ordeal, so I'll apologize now. Overall, I'm glad I made the short trek from Fort Worth to
Wichita Falls and participated in the largest bike ride in the nation. Thousands upon thousands of cycling enthusiast were in town, and this
alone made the weekend unique. It is easy to feel like a minority when
you ride a bike, but not here. I didn't get to see much of the other festivities occurring, but there were many, and I'll admit, they looked like fun. <br />
<br />
<img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPyv8KSm6cb9ZgxVCV3BOh3oIejxZLBc1IPfpD-GBnHD4tUdosgI5Ue5HrswDOZUalzxmefw0S3wYCuxdZFijxJW4qTHwJHjN1zJ223pl8D7elsoFtlEKep5SKih0hEBaXbvWdv7Yw8P0/s640/IMG_1619.jpg" width="480" /><br />
<i> The crit races, complete with a Ferrari to clear the path.</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oqjz4v1GqO6sJBFZ80a8juNrlusOX-GxvHQ2LoMcZSzlFC60f0FKV-irF7umA0WWHhR8Gs3B3jKg4VLFzJj1vS3QA6rHBko2AnYNJ_YfysczgZAlyCZgVDu6PoeADt3l3Oe6rBsYaWA/s640/IMG_1622.jpg" width="480" /><br />
<a name='more'></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzS5qXNPyem91cjaUAvtvL1kvcU5r-qbIOc2m4_HVOqtag17RYa2IwVAYgB3OJFDvNarw3Spi5HW65KJzdp_i-AIzq93miCw2vQ7NohldV2aLKEh1fAhqMfgst5LK7tPSq-heLBbSVC4/s1600/IMG_1625.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzS5qXNPyem91cjaUAvtvL1kvcU5r-qbIOc2m4_HVOqtag17RYa2IwVAYgB3OJFDvNarw3Spi5HW65KJzdp_i-AIzq93miCw2vQ7NohldV2aLKEh1fAhqMfgst5LK7tPSq-heLBbSVC4/s640/IMG_1625.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjP1ofqNSVgwP8wBw496bfG3zKO5k4HEZWxGGch00ifx6Yh8uFYMii6U0qFeF84s4Q7J6KXKAiLrzneTgvoys7vbFMPm-kcw4zF2zQE8M1o_QBYlLwvgC1XtutGGqJiXhKCAFpALnJsu0/s1600/IMG_1634.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPa7BKz9xM9k7Vjnn0b4vk0fEnzlcouy0-7lyQ0HWlHDrSQ7HLHLTRJ4wa05yixclLa3KFk_XPzmYZYHJkxTA84sN46x31dt4PqQwQvZQ6FZ0nBRvZrvQkYdLYY4GtsslEgZvQaIkA_04/s1600/IMG_1633.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
<i>The mall-sized consumer show. </i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7G0e9SqAoNTA-lhh2cO1JRKifU338m3vdHAh-fljvjptpSiF50f3pwf-finChRkQ0uG-jLUa6OL5KTIyGgJ8WTbgqj9A8JZBjkzG6CLPX6hrOq0D1HiicDVaRFwx3yk_S8g5-n0sFYQ/s1600/IMG_1626.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7G0e9SqAoNTA-lhh2cO1JRKifU338m3vdHAh-fljvjptpSiF50f3pwf-finChRkQ0uG-jLUa6OL5KTIyGgJ8WTbgqj9A8JZBjkzG6CLPX6hrOq0D1HiicDVaRFwx3yk_S8g5-n0sFYQ/s640/IMG_1626.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
<i>Bicycle Inc, a major sponsor of the race, was out in full force. </i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiainay4kfW4jcaxyzuzvLhCapwW4iQR2EKS8nIwYEQuDxRpa_BS9Cy3KNwYn02xFyAavClj-xxxeS8rCbJdO0Hh0g2LHz4QTLrBGHctTIcIdU5a02NQDYniYYNLFmgR_XCmUXwu1ikqtY/s1600/IMG_1628.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiainay4kfW4jcaxyzuzvLhCapwW4iQR2EKS8nIwYEQuDxRpa_BS9Cy3KNwYn02xFyAavClj-xxxeS8rCbJdO0Hh0g2LHz4QTLrBGHctTIcIdU5a02NQDYniYYNLFmgR_XCmUXwu1ikqtY/s640/IMG_1628.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
The pace of
the race was the most phenomenal feature. For the first 75 miles, I
averaged 20 mph. Let me say I had tried and tried again to solo effort an
18 mph on my road bike (for a 1 hour ride), and had yet to do so until this weekend, when I averaged 20 mph for 4 hours. Even though I was limping from aid station to aid station in the last 25
miles, I still had a riding average of almost 19 mph. When you throw in my combined
20 minutes of stoppage to douse my body with cold water and guzzle
gatorade, I officially finished the race at 17.6 mph, which is still faster than
my fastest pace alone. That is crazy, crazy. I'm beginning to
understand why people love riding in a group so much. You can go fast!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPa7BKz9xM9k7Vjnn0b4vk0fEnzlcouy0-7lyQ0HWlHDrSQ7HLHLTRJ4wa05yixclLa3KFk_XPzmYZYHJkxTA84sN46x31dt4PqQwQvZQ6FZ0nBRvZrvQkYdLYY4GtsslEgZvQaIkA_04/s1600/IMG_1633.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPa7BKz9xM9k7Vjnn0b4vk0fEnzlcouy0-7lyQ0HWlHDrSQ7HLHLTRJ4wa05yixclLa3KFk_XPzmYZYHJkxTA84sN46x31dt4PqQwQvZQ6FZ0nBRvZrvQkYdLYY4GtsslEgZvQaIkA_04/s640/IMG_1633.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog_mYk9CtNEeQmsfa4isK0LuryM5yATjPPnbPf7oW2Y4Q5P-2onFxNsavhsPAaEom6tAVAJMQQIejPqK37yp9OJo9ERvJr0pNsPFkrFp_jYODv2L-HxwGOzPiebjo1TmqbGQnabKBqhk/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckelU_i-I_n1_ci0SnRE66TGnS7fcDPvP-YuN6JHDdcmD4NXmrrrc09I2azpFDadLI3mK8O6avXq4ejri5zuVB6SPT-A8Wyn8W1S8nDKXO1Ht1BmhMv1EJUEkbg9GIPyzKQXWKWHKkHM/s1600/IMG_1637.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
<i> Riders line up for the start. Almost 3,800 signed up for the full 100 miles.</i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjP1ofqNSVgwP8wBw496bfG3zKO5k4HEZWxGGch00ifx6Yh8uFYMii6U0qFeF84s4Q7J6KXKAiLrzneTgvoys7vbFMPm-kcw4zF2zQE8M1o_QBYlLwvgC1XtutGGqJiXhKCAFpALnJsu0/s1600/IMG_1634.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjP1ofqNSVgwP8wBw496bfG3zKO5k4HEZWxGGch00ifx6Yh8uFYMii6U0qFeF84s4Q7J6KXKAiLrzneTgvoys7vbFMPm-kcw4zF2zQE8M1o_QBYlLwvgC1XtutGGqJiXhKCAFpALnJsu0/s640/IMG_1634.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
At
the massive start, I was somewhere in the middle of the 100 mile
starters (they get to go first, then the 100K, and on down to the 25
milers). I wanted to get out of the "just cruising" crowds, so when I
found a guy who was blazing a trail in the fast lane (left lane,
same as driving), I jumped on his back wheel and followed him. From
then on, I did my best to stay in groups that were moving at least 20
mph. Toward the end of the race, there were times I had to pull to the
side because I was too worn out. The last 5 miles I plugged away
without drafting off of anyone. I was simply dying to find the finish
line and get out of the scorching heat.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog_mYk9CtNEeQmsfa4isK0LuryM5yATjPPnbPf7oW2Y4Q5P-2onFxNsavhsPAaEom6tAVAJMQQIejPqK37yp9OJo9ERvJr0pNsPFkrFp_jYODv2L-HxwGOzPiebjo1TmqbGQnabKBqhk/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhog_mYk9CtNEeQmsfa4isK0LuryM5yATjPPnbPf7oW2Y4Q5P-2onFxNsavhsPAaEom6tAVAJMQQIejPqK37yp9OJo9ERvJr0pNsPFkrFp_jYODv2L-HxwGOzPiebjo1TmqbGQnabKBqhk/s640/IMG_1636.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Riders stop off at one of numerous rest stops well-stocked and well-staffed with volunteers and medical personnel. When you see not one, not two, but three ambulances during the course of the race, you know it's the real deal. Add to that one rider lying on the pavement with the mob being redirected around him (at the start), one gentleman sitting on the side of the road with a stopped motorist on his phone calling in medical help (one of those three ambulances came blaring toward him moments later), and another man in a stretcher being loaded into yet another ambulance. I had heard this race was serious business. Now I know it is. And I read an article stating last year the Hell's Gate cutoff was not in place and a major highway was littered with overheating cyclist. One man was finding shade under a speed limit sign!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckelU_i-I_n1_ci0SnRE66TGnS7fcDPvP-YuN6JHDdcmD4NXmrrrc09I2azpFDadLI3mK8O6avXq4ejri5zuVB6SPT-A8Wyn8W1S8nDKXO1Ht1BmhMv1EJUEkbg9GIPyzKQXWKWHKkHM/s1600/IMG_1637.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckelU_i-I_n1_ci0SnRE66TGnS7fcDPvP-YuN6JHDdcmD4NXmrrrc09I2azpFDadLI3mK8O6avXq4ejri5zuVB6SPT-A8Wyn8W1S8nDKXO1Ht1BmhMv1EJUEkbg9GIPyzKQXWKWHKkHM/s640/IMG_1637.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
<br />
Here is where
the rant begins: Why on earth do cyclists pick the hottest month of the
year in one of the hottest states on the planet to go and ride at the
hottest time of the day??? I was on my bike between 7:00 a.m. and 1:00
p.m. The last hour was pure misery. And there were people out on the
course for 4 MORE HOURS! Insanity. If a single cyclist were to go out
and ride in the hottest part of the day, calling a friendly doctor to be
on standby for heat stroke, you would call that cyclist downright
nuts. But have thousands of buddies join the party, and now it's a
world famous bike race. (Next time I'm gonna check the water stations
for cool-aid.) My brain simply cannot register the reasoning behind all
of this. Why are humans so stupid? It's like this: If I saw someone
else jumping off of a cliff...no way, I'm too smart for that nonsense.
But if thousands were jumping, then danggit, get out of my way!<br />
<br />
Now,
now. If you are a HHH die hard, calm thyself. I know there are lots
of reasons to do the HHH. The fact that many proceeds of the race go to
help local charities and support the local community is enough to put up
with the heat. And being able to ride in pack after pack (even if
you get dropped time and time again like I did) and do average speeds
well beyond your personal capability is sheer delight. Having
incredible volunteers stand in the heat all day to help you stay alive
and keep moving is pretty cool, too. I can also see the fun in
competing against yourself year after year to improve time and speed.
Perhaps all of the above is what keeps people coming back for more.
Nevertheless, I still think it is one of the most insane bike races around. Even if everyone's doing it.<br />
<br />
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Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-75138621639299253922013-08-21T11:30:00.001-07:002015-01-22T10:04:57.980-08:00Leadville 100 MTB Race <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>2013 Leadville 100 MTB race (um, ride) report</b></i></span></span>: <br />
<br />
Life
is indeed a journey. One incredible segment of the journey has finally
reached its conclusion. Even though the epic Leadville 100 is now in
the rear view mirror and it is time to move on to another adventure,
memories that will last a lifetime have been made. In case time fades
my memory, and in case other first timers or flatlanders are embarking
on the same great journey, I have done my best to put this experience
into words.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnkEXbVmj2r1QuSAxcd-akrkO5aOExH6TYVe2f1N9LBrtNIPJ-o5gmKM8Sxyx5foei5qEgWqLAN0jIQxUz95YeSqjLx6TjstVH9SUK4OdjLV9VQQTMN2qqk2TpcM0cstqRPUmpX4i14Q/s1600/zazoosh_990220273-smjpeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnkEXbVmj2r1QuSAxcd-akrkO5aOExH6TYVe2f1N9LBrtNIPJ-o5gmKM8Sxyx5foei5qEgWqLAN0jIQxUz95YeSqjLx6TjstVH9SUK4OdjLV9VQQTMN2qqk2TpcM0cstqRPUmpX4i14Q/s640/zazoosh_990220273-smjpeg.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
If you are a fellow dreamer in the
beginning or middle or almost to the end of your own quest for a buckle,
let me say to you: You can do it! Go for it. Dream big, work hard,
and enjoy every moment.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/08/leadville-100-mtb-preview.html">Thoughts and Pictures from before Race Day...</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/08/leadville-100-mtb-race.html">Pictures from Race Weekend...</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2015/01/lt100-mtb-training-plan.html">Training Plan...</a><br />
<br />
WARNING: This sucker is one long narrative. For the nuts and bolts, see the links above.<br />
<br />
<b>What should I wear? </b><br />
<br />
The
alarm went off at 4:00 a.m. I started the coffee pot in the little
cabin in Buena Vista, made one last almond butter, blueberry, and honey
sandwich, and grabbed my bag of race clothes. The rest of my gear and
fuel was already in the car. My freshly cleaned and lubed bike went on
the rack and away we drove ("we" being my racing friend Jen and her
boyfriend Jason, aka our crew, and I. My precious husband was back home
at football practice.) <br />
<br />
We arrived in town shortly
after 5:30 a.m., a little concerned about parking, but it wasn't a
problem. We parked on the street next to a gas station only a few
blocks from the start. I went inside, put on my shorts and jersey,
plenty of chammy butter and sunscreen, and my warm capris and jacket to
wear until right before the gun was scheduled to go off. I kept an eye
on the clock as I attached my race plate, put on my shoes and helmet,
and made sure my back pockets and camelbak were all situated with my
first round of fuel. Jen went on ahead to the start line as I finished
getting myself together. I was trying to avoid standing around in the
sub-40 degree weather too long, but I actually cut it kind of close. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
By
the time I rolled up to 6th street, everyone seemed set and ready. I
barely had enough time to find the green corral and get myself under the
ropes, shed my outer layer, start my strava, buckle my camelbak, and
put my hand over my pounding heart for the beautiful anthem. I chatted
with a few of the fellow riders around me as we each got ready for our
own journeys. It was difficult to decide how warm to dress and how much
to carry with me. Since I hate getting hot (ironic since I'm from
Texas) and didn't want to have to stop on St. Kevin's climb to shed, I
dressed light. Quite light, that is. I hoped I wasn't a recipe for
hypothermia as I looked around and seemed to be the only person with no
arm warmers, leg warmers, vest, jacket, baklava, mittens, snowsuit,
mummy bag. Heck, even all the pros had warm stuff
on. Oh well, to each his own. I did wear my warm beanie on my head,
figuring as long as my head stayed toasty, I'd survive. After all, the
colder I got, the more I'd look forward to the first climb, right?<br />
<br />
After
the moment we had all been waiting months for, the countdown and
shotgun BOOM!!...well, we just stood there. The ripple effect was in
play as we had to wait for the riders in the corrals in front to get
going. Soon enough, we were off. It was actually happening.<br />
<br />
The
air was cool and the pace was brisk. The sunlight escaping from the
mountains behind us shed enough light for us to see the morning hues on
the mountains in front of us. I kept to the left on the outbound road
to allow a little wiggle room on the upcoming right hand turns. From
the beginning of the race, I embraced riding in a pack, and for much of
the day, I was glued to someone else's wheel and someone was glued to
mine. Even when the crowd thinned, I was always in sight of other
riders. There was only one brief moment toward the end when I seemed to
be alone.<br />
<br />
My feet were numb and my hands a bit
chilled. My arms stung a little, like when you roll your window down in
the winter and an awakening rush of air comes over your whole body.
Nevertheless, I was not too uncomfortable, and was glad I had opted to
go light. The beanie kept necessary heat in, and I determined I would
keep it on my head until I could feel my toes again. (This occurred at
the the beginning of Columbine when the lovely sunshine thawed us out.)<br />
<br />
<b>Get in line</b><br />
<br />
I
had heard several times regarding the initial climb of St. Kevin's
"don't burn all your fuel at the beginning," "pace yourself," and "take
it easy." No problem! The pace line was so slow that you couldn't go
faster if your finish time depended on it. (If you have read the book <i>Into Thin Air</i>
or the likes about the commercialization of Mt. Everest, I thought of
the log jams that happen on the Hilary step. Only I was thankful the
slow pace wasn't putting my life in jeopardy.) A few antsy riders tried
to work their way through the dense, slowly ascending mob. My friend
Jen told me after the race that one such hammerhead who had nearly
knocked her over ended up snapping his chain as he cranked down a little
too impatiently. Oops.<br />
<br />
The climb went by rather fast,
and before I knew it, we were passing the Carter Summit mini aid station
at mile 11. The guy immediately in front of me started frantically
hollering, "Mechanic!" I can't remember what he needed, but I was
getting frustrated because he was slowing our line way down and
swerving, and there were too many people to simply move around. The
huge herd was starting to spread out and speed up, and I was anxious to
stay as far ahead in the masses as possible going into the Powerline
descent, which I figured would be a bottleneck. He eventually realized
he was clogging the lane and pulled to the side. It was time to take
off. <br />
<br />
<b>Steady, boys. We're not even to Powerline yet.</b><br />
<br />
The
section between St. Kevin's and Sugarloaf was absolutely gorgeous. The
route wrapped around Turquoise Lake. I rubbernecked as much as I dared
the whole time. The fast pavement ended soon enough and we turned onto
number two climb of the day. (I mentally broke the race into the 6
climbs, the obvious ones and also the finish). Sugarloaf was not quite
as steep as St. Kevin's, and there seemed to be more room to maneuver. <br />
<br />
Ascending
in a pack is a little tricky in some ways, but especially so is
descending. Unlike the pavement, which is wide and predictable, the
"pre-Powerline descents" were something to be respected. I was glad Jen
and I had pre-ridden this section. On our pre-ride, we had encountered
one not-to-happy rider walking his bike after a ripped sidewall cut his
day short. I also called to mind the friend of a friend of Jen who had
endoed somewhere in the area a few days earlier. Apparently he was
going too fast, hit a small rut, and flipped over his bike. He also
dislocated his shoulder. I think he got it back in place and was still
planning to race, although I never heard a follow up.<br />
<br />
Needless
to say, I was on high alert. The left side of the washed out rocky
road was the "smoothest," so I joined the steady stream of downhillers
on the inside line. This is when I nearly witnessed disaster. Some
dude was trying to pass everyone on the right. The only problem is-
according to the law of mountain bike physics- it is hard, while on a
rocky, rutted, loose, off-camber line that is within a foot of the side
of a mountain, to pass those on a smooth line. The teetering,
off-balance rider who came careening by on the right managed to slide
his way into the line of traffic toward the bottom of the steep pitch
without a disastrous wreck. Whew!<br />
<br />
After a short punchy
climb up, it was time for Powerline. Again, due to the steady stream
of riders, it was nearly impossible to go too fast, and the descent came
and went without a hitch. I was grateful to be safely through what I
thought would be the two most precocious places on the course: the mass
start and Powerline. As I hit flat ground and turned right on the road
that would take me to the Pipeline aid station, I realized I was more
out of breath than I had been on either of the first two climbs.<br />
<br />
<b>Pit stop</b><br />
<br />
Another
valuable piece of advice I had read was to never get caught alone in
the flats. Taking this as gospel, I quickly found a wheel and hooked
on. There was twice during the second half of the race that I did get
caught with some distance between me and the rider(s) ahead, and both
times I made the decision to find a faster gear and catch up. Even if
it cost me some energy, I knew it was well worth it. Especially on the
return in this same section between Pipeline and Powerline, when a
strong headwind was blowing.<br />
<br />
Wow, this is a really long
write up. If you are still reading you are either a blood relative (hi
Carolyn) or you are a fellow Leadhead who will read anything you can
get your hands on that relates to this crazy race, including a rambling
blog. Speaking of rambling, I better continue. I'm just now getting to
the first aid station!<br />
<br />
The first aid station was a
welcomed sight as I was anxious to check my first split time. I had the
11 and 12 hour times on my bike. My overall goal was to finish in
under 12, but my "if I'm feeling really good" goal was 11 hours. Plus,
this early in the game, I was trying to buy as much time as possible in
case I hit a wall late in the day, or had a mechanical. The first split
times were 8:55 and 9:05 respectively. I rolled in at 9:00 a.m. and
made a quick stop to refill my heed/perpetuem bottle and grab some food
and jumped back on my bike quickly. Poor Jason had carried my whole
crew bag, full of heavy bottles, only to see me pass by and wave. I had
panicked when I didn't see him right away and stopped short of where he
was waiting. When I did see him, I felt bad I had missed him and made a
note to be more patient at Twin Lakes.<br />
<br />
<b>Just eat it</b><br />
<br />
The
rest of the course going out was uncharted territory since I hadn't
preridden any of it. Not that I had time to do so in a week, but I kind
of liked the fact that I would be riding about 60% of the course
unseen. I knew it would keep my brain engaged as it soaked in the new
scenery. The course was extremely well marked by the incredible Mr.
Art. (Art raced his way into the books this day, with 10 finishes and
1,000 miles under his belt, or buckle(s) I should say. Three gentlemen
would cross the line for finish number 20!) With all the pink flags and
volunteers directing the way, I wasn't worried about taking a wrong
turn.<br />
<br />
I had made it a point in my preparation to fuel a
lot early, especially in the section between Pipeline and Twin Lakes,
as this is the "flattest" part of the course. There is never a time in
the day when you can use hunger as a guide. I won't go into nutrition
plans as there is a lot of information already out there, but will
repeat what I've heard quite a bit, because it is imperative. Eat and
drink! (Maybe not drink as much as you think, more on that later. But
eat, yes.) If you wait too long, the nausea will set in and it will be
even more difficult. We talked to a guy a few days before the race who
had been on a 9 hour pace in 2012, but didn't eat enough early on.
After battling his stomach, he barely recovered to make it in under 12
hours. In both the Silver Rush and 100, I didn't eat or drink as much
as I had planned, but nevertheless, I felt like I was constantly making
myself force in calories. (You don't hear that too often.) It is so
easy to look down and realize you've been riding an hour and haven't
consumed anything, because you never actually get hungry. It is also
really difficult to eat when you are climbing, since you can't breath
and eat at the same time. And it's hard to eat while descending. So
whatever your thing is, gu's or gels, waffles or bars, a philly cheese
steak or apple pie, shove it in and keep moving. In the last hours of
the race when you can't stomach much at all, hopefully you have put
enough fuel in the tank to make it to the finish. (I think the
child-size stromboli I ate the night before helped. I should probably
clarify- the portion wasn't child-size. The stromboli itself was about
the size of a child.)<br />
<br />
<b>Population=Elevation</b><br />
<br />
It's
funny to me. In Texas, when you drive through a town and look at the
green sign letting you know where you are, the population is also
listed. It's different in Colorado. Instead of population, the green
signs give the elevation. For example, Leadville: Elevation 10,200. I
missed the sign going into Twin Lakes, but the population and the
elevation were probably one and the same.<br />
<br />
Twin Lakes
comes fairly quickly after Pipeline. I started seeing a small city
lined up by a lake, and asked another rider, "Is that Twin Lakes?"
"Yep." He was nice enough not to add a smart remark, like, "No,
actually that's Denver" since it was a dumb question. I think I was
surprised it had come so soon.<br />
<br />
I was determined to find
Jason, even though I didn't need anything from my "crew bag" until the
return trip from Columbine. Holy cow did the line of spectators go on
forever! What an incredible experience to be racing through such a long
line of excited friends and family. I will have to interject here that
this unbridled and continual enthusiasm seen all day long is what makes
this race bucket list status. More times than I can count, I heard
people encourage me. There was extra encouragement because I was a
lady. "Girl powerrr!! Yeah!!!" was a theme from female fanatics. I
also loved it when I saw a little hand sticking out, asking for some
skin (glove). <br />
<br />
I didn't see Jason at any point
through the half a mile long crowd, and figured he got hung up at
Pipeline. Each tent I passed, I contemplated stopping for water. I
spotted a "Skratch" tent with big coolers on a table, so I pulled over.
I still had a bit of mix left in the bottom of my bottle, and I knew I
would be refilling my camelbak at the top of Columbine (I didn't want to
carry a full bladder on the 10 mile climb), so I asked the volunteer to
top off my bottle with whatever he had.<br />
<br />
Apparently,
the overflow of Twin Lakes was so massive there was a secondary town a
little further down. Here is where I saw Jason. It was good to know
exactly where he was for the return. "I'm good for now, but I'll grab a
bottle and bag when I come back through." My reserve bonk bar, waffle,
and honeystinger gels were gone since I had missed Jason at the first
stop. That turned out quite well, however, since it meant my pack was
about as light as it could be, barring my spare tube and all.<br />
<br />
<b>Up, up, up</b><br />
<br />
The
Columbine climb was a beast. I realized it would take some fortitude
and patience as I glanced down at my split times and realized I had a
couple of hours before the summit was within reach. One guy joked, "Now
time for the worst stretch of trail in Colorado." Once more, I was in a
climbing congo line and could do nothing more than put my head down,
find my happy place, and keep pedaling. One event that broke up the
climb was Ken Chlouber on his four wheeler revving up the mountain
around us. The leaders of the race had already begun to pass us on
their way down, and there were extremely small and perilous windows of
opportunity to pass. Therefore, Ken would have to bide his time passing
a few riders at a clip, then stall the over-sized 4-wheel machine in
between the upward crawlers. When he nudged in only one bike ahead of
me and had to creep along for a while to let the descending pros fly by,
all of us within 20 yards of his tailpipe were breathing exhaust. When
a long view showed no dowhnill flyers in sight, several in our pack
encouraged Ken, "Go!! Rev that thang and go!!" Soon enough he did and
disappeared around the mountain, only to reappear a few miles later.
This time he was perched on a big boulder on the side of the mountain
cheering us on. "Hey Ken!" Riders greeted the boisterous and iconic
Leadville founder as if he was a longtime friend. <br />
<br />
I
didn't recognize who the leaders were as they descended since they came
by like freight trains, but it was neat to witness a pro race while
riding in my own amateur one. I do remember seeing the first female
(Sally Bigham) in line. The Leadville legend, Rebecca Rusch, came by a
few minutes later in third. I yelled some encouragement at her, even
though it seemed out of character for me. I don't normally get hyped by
"famous people," although she is such an ambassador of the race and the
sport, and was uncharacteristically behind, I felt the impulse to shout
something like, "You got it!" (She shared at the racer's meeting, with
tears in her eyes and a heavy heart, that a dear friend of hers had
passed away earlier that week. I found out later her friend had been
struck by a vehicle while out riding a bike. She had contemplated not
racing at all, but decided to go ahead and do so. Not only did she race
like the champion she is, I saw her after I had crossed the finish line
((4 hours after she did)) greeting fellow finishers.)<br />
<br />
Toward
the top of Columbine, the grade steepened and the trees disappeared.
There were a few parts that may have been rideable, but the slow crowd (<i>Into Thin Air</i>
flashbacks again) and oncoming left-hand lane traffic dictated walking
most of it. I thought it was funny when hardcore small bucklers like me
would yell out, "Rider!" (Translation: "Move over walkers, I'm coming
through!") Technically, those pushing bikes must yield to anyone
riding who wants to pass. The funny thing is, there was no room on the
right to move, and those riding weren't moving much faster than those
pushing. I think sometimes during the steep sections of uphill,
starting at Columbine and continuing a few places on the return, getting
off and hiking were actually a nice break. My motto for the 100 was
the same as it was for the 50. SPKM. Stay Positive and Keep Moving. I
figured as long as I kept forward momentum and rode whenever possible,
I'd be alright.<br />
<br />
<b>Txtng from Clmbine</b><br />
<br />
At
the top of Columbine, I really wanted to text my husband. I had told
him the day before that I would try to send him an update at the halfway
point. Since I was right on target with the 11 hour split, I decided
to take the time to send him some love. I had imagined the top of
Columbine to be a bit bigger, where riders fanned out and took a little
break. It wasn't like that at all. In fact, it was more like the
perfect hybrid between a buffet line and a full-service gas station.
Let me say in case I fail to mention it elsewhere, you won't find better
volunteers anywhere than you do at Leadville. The army of them worked
fast and as a unit to get riders their needed supplies without hardly
slowing pace.<br />
<br />
My first to-do at the top was to refill
my camelbak. Not one, but two gentlemen worked to help me get my pack
off and refilled. A little girl brought a pitcher of water. While this
was going on, a blue plate was shoved in front of me. "Fig newton?" I
grabbed two and shoved them in my mouth.<br />
<br />
I looked
around for a place to take out my phone. Less than 15 yards away, the
mountain dropped off into a beautiful deep-cut valley. I turned against
the flow of traffic in the summit cul-de-sac, stood on the edge, and
pulled out my phone. One volunteer joked with me, "This is no time to
be texting young lady!" I smiled as I took my riding gloves off and
thumbed to my beloved: "At Columbine. Feeling good. Love you!"
Before getting back in line for the descent, I looked up at the view. I
was anxious to get going and glad to be halfway home, but sad there
wasn't time to circumnavigate the small summit and soak in the 360
degrees of gorgeous.<br />
<br />
<b>Fresh brake pads are good</b><br />
<br />
The
first part of the descent down Columbine left me fearful for the first
time in the race I might not be able to finish, and not for any reason I
would have anticipated.<br />
<br />
Three ahead of me, a rider was
descending the steepest part of the mountain like she was going through
a school zone speed trap. I started smelling rubber burning.
Literally. And the odor was strong. I couldn't tell whose bike it was
coming from, but I knew my brakes had to be smoking. When they started
feeling a little squishy in my sweaty palms, I got nervous. There was
thick, oncoming traffic to our left, and an etched wall of dirt to our
right. With no where to go but into the spandex of the rider in front
of me, I held my brakes tight and prayed they would hold out until I
could get around. If I let go for even a millisecond to "feather" the
brakes, my front tire would catch too much speed and surge forward.
About the time I thought my brakes were on the verge of failure, the
double track widened and an opening presented itself. Without a
moment's hesitation, I hollered, "On your left!!"and passed all three
riders at once. Finally, open road! <br />
<br />
The descent
down Columbine was one of the best parts of the race. I guess the cut
off time at Twin Lakes outbound had taken place because not too long
after the trees reappeared did the riders going up disappear. That
meant those of us heading down had full use of both sides of the road
and could take the switchback turns wide. I felt like an alpine skiier
blazing down the mountain. Before I even knew it, I was back at Twin
Lakes. Jason was waiting with a full bottle of my special mixture and
bags of food. Since Pipeline aid station was not far ahead and I knew
it would be a time crunch for him to get everything to the car and out
to Pipeline, I grabbed an extra bag of food and told him I would be good
for the rest of the way. I asked him how Jen was doing, and he said
good. I had seen her shortly after making the turn at Columbine, but
barely got her name out. Amy, another friend from Texas, and I
leapfrogged the whole race. We pulled into Twin Lakes about the same
time. Right before I rode off, I saw her boyfriend hand her a bagel
sandwich and encourage her to get it down. "See you guys at the finish
line!" I said as I jumped back on my bike, checked my time split, and
hit the road. I was a few minutes over the 11-hour pace. <br />
<br />
<b>Wheel-sucker</b><br />
<br />
At
the Pipeline return station, I pulled aside and topped off my bottle. I
folded up a honey stinger waffle, gave it a few chews, and swallowed.
After making sure I had one last bag of gels in my back pocket, I took
off. I was still hovering at the 11 hour mark and figured I might as
well go for it. Before the jeep road turned to asphalt leaving
Pipeline, I got stuck behind two guys who were shooting the breeze like
it was Sunday morning at the local donut shop. I followed one of their
wheels for a few minutes before I realized they were going extremely
slow. Since they were taking up both lanes, I had to speak up to get
by. When I asked if I could sneak around, they apologized for blocking
the way. I thought it was cool that they were enjoying some mid-race
conversation.<br />
<br />
When I got around them, it dawned on me I
was out of wheels to follow. Like a child without her blanket, I felt
some minor angst. The long, flat road between Pipeline and Powerline
was on the horizon and the closest rider was over 50 yards ahead.
"Crap" I thought. I sped up my pace and turned left onto the pavement
and into a headwind. I revved up my cadence even more to hopefully
catch the rider ahead ASAP. In only a couple of minutes I tagged on,
relaxed, and enjoyed the draft.<br />
<br />
In a huge mass of
amateur riders, it is easy to hide and not feel obligated to take a turn
at the front of the pack. I was amazed several times during the race
how many people were obviously uninterested in drafting. (These are
good people to follow, as long as they can hold their line and are
steady, because you can tail them as long as you like without feeling
guilty. If the line is shaky and the pace shifty, then plan B is to
look for shaved legs. On males, that is. These guys usually pull you
along quite nicely. The trade off is a turn at the front:) In either
scenario, when there are only two of you and the person to whom you are
being a "wheel sucker" is a total stranger, even if he has hairy legs,
it is more difficult to hide. I was hoping the guy I had caught up to
wouldn't notice my heavy breathing or my shadow. But after a few
glances back, he finally said, "Are you going to pull or what?" As I
sheepishly moved up, I excused, "Sorry. I just busted my butt to catch
up to you." Out of shame or maybe pride, I took the lead and set the
pace high enough that: 1) I could bridge the gap between me and the
next available riders who were another 40-50 yards ahead, and 2) I'd
drop hairy legs. (I ran into the guy on the last stretch of the race,
"the Boulevard" and thought about apologizing, but when he started
pulling ahead and I couldn't keep up, I figured it had all worked out
okay.) With several miles to go into the strong headwind, I found
myself in a new group of four or five. We actually worked like a mini
peloton and rotated through, each taking short turns at the front. Amy
was in the group as well. She had passed me at the Pipeline Aid station
and eventually pulled ahead for good. <br />
<br />
<b>Free-loading beverage connoisseur</b><br />
<br />
On
the last road mile leading up to the Powerline climb, I noticed a huge
orange Strava tent on the right side of the road. Two Strava guys, with
the enthusiasm of over-sized cardboard sidewalk advertisers, were
practically blocking the path of riders. With mini coke cans in their
outstretched arms, they offered up some needed caffeine with lots of
love. By the time I dodged the zealous volunteers, I realized they had
picked their spot with intention. We were minutes away from the
steepest climb of the day. And stupid me, I just stared as the other
members of my makeshift group took the free hand-ups.<br />
<br />
There
was a guy immediately to my right sipping the sugary goodness, and
another imbiber about 10 yards ahead. (Is it obvious I'm married to a
coach? All my distance describers are in yards.) The one in front took
a couple of swigs, then chunked the rest aside. The can practically
exploded as it landed among the growing pile of red aluminum. It
occurred to me that most riders didn't drink the whole can. I looked
wantingly to the guy on my right as he took a second sip. "Are you
going to drink all of that?" I asked. "No." He said as he finished
his sip with a smile and handed me the can in mid flight. As I guzzled
the coke and felt proud of my resourcefulness, he quipped with a grin
before speeding away, "As long as you don't mind oral herpes." I
laughed out loud. There was no time for cheap laughter though, as the
Powerline barbarian was looming.<br />
<br />
A trio of dressed up
chics with a boombox blaring like it was the '80's helped distract me on
the lower section of the climb. I did my best to dance with them as I
passed. My lack of dancing skill was masked since it was only my right
arm and head that were moving to the beat of their music. I pedaled
onward, until it was time to dismount and start the slow trudge
upwards. Toward the top, a kind bystander asked me if I wanted a push.
"Sure!" "Just tell me when," she offered. When I could manage enough
balance to get clipped back in, I said "Okay!" and she gave me a big
shove. I was afraid I might fall over, but it actually was a nice surge
of momentum. "Thanks!!" I yelled as I moved on down the line. <br />
<br />
<b>Nature calls. Why is she so persistent?</b><br />
<br />
Somewhere
towards the top of Sugarloaf, I figured I had about 2 hours left. With
now over 9 hours elapsed, I had another small game-day decision to
make. (What can I say? I'm a coach, too.) Should I take one final
break, or embrace a little agony and go for a sub-11 hour finish? I
kind of had to pee, again, and if I was going to pee I might as well
reapply my chammy butter and take a few deep breaths. Maybe even
stretch a minute. Perhaps I'm losing some of my competitiveness as I
get older, but once more during the epic day I asked myself which was
more important to me: a certain finish time, or the enjoyment of the
final hours of the race. If I took a moment to get off the bike and
gather myself one last time, I knew I would feel better for the last,
and maybe hardest, stretch. <br />
<br />
I really don't want to
confess this, but it might be the final tip that helps someone in a
future Leadville 100 with a small bladder like me save some precious
time. After all, it would be a sad day if a call from nature is what
kept someone from getting a buckle. I read some guy's blog in my
preparations who made the comment about how "next time" he won't wear
bibs. It can take a lot of time to shed an outer layer, camelbak,
jersey, et al. in order to get bibs down and use the bathroom. Since I
pee a lot anyways, I made the decision to wear shorts, even though I
much prefer bibs. And even though I drank half the coffee I usually do
before the race, I had to pee <span style="font-size: xx-small;">four times</span> during
the race. (I made that small so you might accidentally skip it.) When I
decided to wear shorts instead of bibs, I figured I would stop once,
maybe twice. But <span style="font-size: xx-small;">four times</span>! After the first
stop, I actually told myself not to drink as much. Nevertheless,
nature refused to listen. It wasn't too big of a deal, as there were
many pine trees along the way. Stopping along the course is a better
option than stopping at the aid stations. There aren't many
port-o-potties out there anyhow. And you don't have to worry about
waiting in line.<br />
<br />
<b>The final hour</b><br />
<br />
Feeling
light and fast, ok maybe just light, I set my sights on the finish
line. Two more climbs, and the red carpet would be in view.<br />
<br />
The
backside of St. Kevin's is a paved road, the one that winds around the
lake. I tried to take in the views as I did on the outward trip, but it
was a little harder this go around. I seemed to get surges of energy,
followed by a sluggish turning over of the pedals. I ran into Rain from
Boulder again, and more conversation with her helped make the climb go
by faster. She didn't seemed to be too labored in her efforts. This
was her third time to do the LT100, and probably her last. A friend of
hers, who was somewhere not too far behind us, was also going for finish
number 10. After this year, Rain said if she returned it would be as a
crew volunteer. "It's really a blast to crew for someone." <br />
<br />
Rain
and I parted ways at Carter Summit. She dropped off to wait for her
friend and encouraged me an 11-hour finish was still within reach. I
knew it was a long shot at this point, but figured I should make one
final push. With a few sips of mix in my bottle and some water in my
camelbak to spare, I blasted through the last-chance aid station.<br />
<br />
For
the first time all day, I was seemingly alone. Even though there were
riders ahead and behind, the forested surroundings over and down St.
Kevin's offered a solitary surreality. The light at the end of the
tunnel was beginning to shine and a new wave of energy came over me (ok,
so the perceived energy was really from me going downhill, but it was
nice). In the middle of my daydream of buckles and a beer, I reached
for my camelbak hose to take a long pull. Now that one bladder was
empty, I could drink liberally from the other. The long drink was cut
short however. A gurgled slurping in my hose signaled empty. Realizing
my bottle only had a couple of hits left and I had an hour to go, I
momentarily worried. "Should I turn around and get water?" "You're
crazy!! Just keep going, you don't have that long to go." Yes, I was
having a conversation with myself. Not out loud of course. Or maybe it
was. I suddenly remembered the dozens of accidentally-dropped bottles I
had been seeing all over the course. Downhill sections seemed to be
the best attractors, so I figured I'd be in luck. Sure enough I was,
and with a quick hop off the bike, I had a full bottle. I would have
opted for straight water, but when you are desperate, anything will do.
Including lukewarm, mocha-flavored endurance mix, topped off with a smidgen of a
stranger's germs and dirt. At least the bottle was cool (from Absolute
Bikes in Salida, green color) and I was energized for the last hour.<br />
<br />
One
of my favorite views on the course was the open field at the base of
St. Kevin's. The mountains set behind the green and golden flats were
particularly beautiful. I knew this would be my last day in the
mountains for quite a while, so I tried to savor the moment. I was
riding alone and my pace had unknowingly slowed quite a bit. An older
gentlemen in a bright and colorful jersey came by me with the speed of a
horse heading for home. I jumped on his wheel. Before crossing the
railroad tracks, I glanced down at the river flowing beside me and gave a
nod to the fishing hole that had brought such peace a few days before.<br />
<br />
The
older gentleman and I swapped places and I led us to a group of three
more. At the pebbly base of the Boulevard, I bounced my way to the
other side of the road in order to have a line all to myself. I powered
up the rocks and then settled back into a steady cadence the rest of
the way up the Boulevard. A few riders passed me, and I didn't care. I
knew I was going over the 11 hour mark, but was far enough away from 12
hours that even if I had a mechanical, I could run it in. <br />
<br />
One
final right hand turn onto 6th street brought a view that was 11 hours
and 8 minutes in the making. I could see the finish line. A smile
broke on my gritty face as the spectators grew closer and louder. One
husband was waiting by the wayside a hundred yards from the finish. His
wife was still pedaling forward when he gave her a running hug and
yelled, "You did it honey!!!" All around me finishers were crossing over
into mountain bike history. It was cool to witness all the other
gloriously depleted yet
victorious riders realizing their own hard-fought and long-sought
dream. For me, I can honestly say I enjoyed every moment of it.<br />
<br />
The
hug I was most looking forward to would have to wait another day until I
made it back to Texas. I got the next best thing, though: high fives
from a long line of children and loved ones who had been waiting
patiently at the finish to welcome each and every weary traveler home.Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-26879469969466823882013-08-14T15:12:00.000-07:002013-09-01T12:11:51.209-07:002013 Leadville 100 MTB Pictures Last Saturday, I participated in one of the greatest mountain bike races in the country: the Leadville 100. After one of the most memorable days I've ever had on a bike, filled with plenty of excitement and a bit of adventure, I crossed the finish line in 11:08. <br />
<br />
Here are a few pictures: (To read the full story, <a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/08/leadville-100-mtb-race_21.html">click here</a>.)<br />
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Preparing for the race takes a little time. Here are my sketches as I prepared my time splits and nutrition plan.<br />
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Packet pick-up, along with every other aspect of the race, was a well-oiled machine.<br />
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Everyone was excited at the racer's meeting.<br />
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Pre-game meal: I tried to stockpile my body with as much fuel as possible the night before the race. This thing was huge. I ate about 2/3 of it at dinner, then polished the rest of it off a couple of hours later before I went to bed.<br />
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My race-day bag, complete with my refills on gels, honey stinger waffles, bonk bars, and bottles of my special strawberry heed/perpetuem mix.<br />
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<img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnbW9e43f_t82OpuItHuFKmMXJ6a0BQxLfinlQ9tmLYI0FAm2_GGApg7iFi9uViJL5h_KzKFwzd1yMFPYvBMM_PhyxW7H5JNqTR5imc-xLV-AHOdIgZx_VpqEEk6sLpp1c7XQO8TxT04U/s640/IMG_1600.jpg" width="640" /><br />
Riders stand in 39 degree weather, waiting for the gun to go off at 6:30 a.m.<br />
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<img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMOBjdv7-tmJG-IsvvLAPq7jWABLFz1jjxNavRwGzBye0sJyD-87dOQY1OXSb2B11k-kIFPHw6RuYmfIJ97_85gsvW9wtL9nLHrHSLPdi14Rqa8g8bRLsrRv2spZJWS905lz0q3C-nOng/s640/IMG_1599.mov" width="640" /><br />
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The mass start. Almost 1,600 racers started the race. </div>
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A few pedals later...the finish!</div>
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Here's my bike, after the race. The race was approximately 104 miles. My bike clocked 100.4, which means means I walked over 3 miles over the course of the race! Having the splits where I could easily see them was helpful. And my motto for the race (it's becoming more of a life motto): SPKM. Stay Positive. Keep Moving. <br />
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Again, the difference in my official time (11:08) and what my bike recorded (9:48) has me off my bike and on my feet for an hour and twenty minutes. I had been wondering what my bike computer would do at the 10 hour mark since there is no room for another digit, but I never got to find out.<br />
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My faithful bike didn't have a single problem. A special thanks to the awesome mechanics at Bicycles Inc. (The bottle on the bike is one I picked up off the side of the trail on the last stretch between Carter Summit and the finish line, when I realized I had about an hour to go with nothing to drink.)<br />
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At the awards ceremony, they honored Fred. At 80 years old, he is the oldest person to compete in the Leadville 100 (last year he finished in just under 12 hours). This year, he finished in over 13 hours. Nevertheless, he was deservingly honored with a silver pan and later a buckle. Way to go Fred! (He's a fellow Texan by the way.)<br />
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All 50 states and 38 countries were represented.<br />
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There it is!<br />
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There were quite a few racers from Texas. Here are 4 of us who race locally. Katie, Amy, me, and Jen. Not pictured is Lisa, who was proposed to at the finish line by her boyfriend! I got to witness the whole thing. They crossed at the same time, he got down on one knee, and she said yes! There were a lot of guys from Texas as well. I'd like to see what the total number was...maybe I'll find out and update this...<br />
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And this is another couple who apparently got married during the race at the top of Columbine!! They rode the whole time in these outfits.<br />
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Here is a look at all the cool stuff you get if you cross in under 12 hours. A finisher's medal, a sweatshirt with your name and time on the sleeve, a necklace (for females) and a buckle. <br />
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The founder of the race, Ken, poses with my Bicycles Inc. friends, Janis and Bill.<br />
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Here they are with a double arm amputee who finished the race!<br />
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And Carlos (in the scarf), a leg amputee who finished in under 9 hours for the big buckle!</div>
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One last look at the streets of downtown Leadville. This was a few evenings before the race. It rained on us every single day we were there, except for on race day.</div>
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When I got home, I assessed all the cool stickers I collected during the trip. (The blue Pb sticker in the middle is now proudly affixed to my car.)Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-55198611370495952672013-08-08T14:35:00.001-07:002013-08-21T11:48:09.447-07:00Leadville 100 MTB PreviewIn 2 days, I'll be racing across the sky. (Fast forward 2 days...<a href="http://brendaandress.blogspot.com/2013/08/leadville-100-mtb-race_21.html">the race report</a>.) I arrived in Leadville several days ago with my racing buddy, Jen. We have been doing final week preparation, including (acclimatizing) a few key pre-rides, getting time splits in our heads (and later on our bikes), and topping off the fuel/nutrition plans. Here are some pictures from the days leading up to the big race. <br />
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We left Texas on Saturday (one week before race day) and stayed overnight in Raton, NM. This broke up the 13 hour drive, plus gave us a "buffer" night at altitude. We got a good night's rest at around 6,700 ft. elevation before waking up and driving into Leadville (elevation 10, 200 ft.) on Sunday morning. Along the way, we hit a few showers. One of them left a full rainbow in its wake.<br />
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The Motel 6 in Raton has an interesting way of designating their rooms as non-smoking...just in case you want to break the rules, they are happy to oblige. <br />
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Jen and I finally arrived in Leadville, and a kind gentleman took our picture. Looks like he wanted to be in it, too.</div>
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We caught the tail end of the annual "Boom Days" Festival. Apparently, one of the events is a burro race. These guys go 15 miles on foot. I wonder if the racer in back ever sneaks a sit when the forerunner isn't looking.<br />
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The local bike shop in Leadville, Cycles of Life, has been a popular place this week. Everyone in there is super friendly despite a crazy week for them. This is Piper, an employee's dog. She isn't posing here, they said she loves to hug her bear.</div>
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After taking it easy on Sunday, Jen and I headed out for the first of two days pre-riding the course. Monday we rode the start to Carter aid station almost 11 miles out. We got a taste of the first major climb, St. Kevin's. We stopped near the top at an old mine to snap a few shots.</div>
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Great shot of Jen.<br />
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After the up and down, we headed back towards town to see the gradual-but-nevertheless-uphill finish, which is different than the start. I wanted to be mentally ready for what would be required for the last 5 miles. I mean, after 98 miles, every pebble and small slope will probably seem like a boulder and Everest. <br />
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I love this open meadow. Hopefully I'll employ the same tactic as in the Silver Rush and remember to look up and take in the surroundings when my mind and body get tired. <br />
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In between pre-riding and hanging out, we stopped by the Herbalife 24 hour base camp and picked up a goodie bag. I snapped a shot of the suggested split times and the course profile. They had smaller handouts of the same, which were useful tools in planning for race day.<br />
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Our second day of pre-riding included the infamous Powerline climb. We headed to the Pipeline Aid station and worked our way backwards, to and up Powerline, to the top of Sugarloaf, and back.<br />
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Jen and I showed off our sponsors' jerseys, the Emergo Group. Well, it is actually Jen's employer who offered to pay for her entry fee ($345 big ones), lodging for a week, gas, and food. Since I got to tag along with the lodging and gas part of it, I consider them my "sponsor," too. Maybe next year I'll walk into the principal's office at my school and, well, nevermind. </div>
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From the base of Powerline, you can see the grade starts mild, but at the top...<br />
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It gets so steep that only the top pros can ride it. During the race, this climb comes toward the end, so even champions of the LT100 end up walking it. As I began the descent on our way back, I saw Rebecca Rusch ascending. She was climbing like it was nothing. Pretty cool. From the bottom to the top, I only rode a little bit and walked the rest. It took 14 minutes. It's really not that bad on "fresh legs." Perhaps it's the fact that you still have a couple of miles of climbing to get to the top of Sugarloaf after you conquer the beast, or that when you hit the climb on race day you've been riding longer than a normal workday lasts, that some say it can be a real crusher. <br />
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One more look from the top. Jen made it up first and took a shot of me on my little stroll.<br />
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This is the backside of Powerline. So going outbound, we will get to climb this, then descend the gnarly booger. On the pre-ride, I descended it under control. Even then, twice I had to really check my speed and my back tire washed out a little. I'm telling myself to be careful during the race, when adrenaline will also be in play. As I've heard before (and remembered during the SilverRush a few times), "you won't win the race in the downhills, but you sure can lose it." Well, I ain't even trying to win anything, just make it safely to the finish line in under a dozen hours. <br />
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The descent was so much fun. I hope I'm smiling this much come race day. That's my goal anyway.<br />
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Thanks Emergo!<br />
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It's easy to get anxious about how the race will unfold. For example, the weather forecast is a low of 30 something and a hi of 60 something. With a 40% chance of rain. What if we have to descend Powerline in the rain? Will I have enough clothing to avoid hypothermia, or will I overheat? It's easy to wonder if all the training will pay off, if at the end of this long journey I will be able to look back and say, "Man, that was worth it" whatever the results may be. Of course I hope to cross the finish line. And of course I hope it is before the cut off time so I can get all the cool swag that official finishers get. Like a belt buckle and a medal around my neck. And a finisher's sweatshirt and pendant and my name in the books. I hope to accomplish the "finishing" part of this Leadville 100 goal because it is never easy in life when we come up short. With so much on the line, no wonder it is easy to get anxious. This is where I have to take a step back and remember reality. (Maybe that is what inspired me to put "my story" as a permanent fixture at the top of this just last week.) I am free to look down the long road on Saturday with a smile and enjoy every minute of it. Rain or shine. Buckle or no buckle. There will be fun and beauty and adventure in the day no matter what, so I will make sure to look for it. Nothing can keep me from that goal. That is the goal that is attainable regardless of all the unknowns. <br />
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A view from the first turn onto the dirt heading towards St. Kevin's, looking back the other way to the south.<br />
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This was the first of my two fishing spots. Getting out in nature has been the best way for me to keep this week in perspective. Plus, I always see something incredible. A fawn, pronghorn sheep, elk, a huge hawk, and some fish, among other beauties.<br />
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After coming up short every single time fly fishing last trip to Colorado, I finally got a fish in the net! I had almost given up and called it a day. It had been raining on and off (that's when I took the picture with the railroad tracks, you can see the storm coming) and I had tangled my line not once, but twice. But alas! I finally caught one. </div>
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After making the fish pose for me, I set him back in the water and watched him dart away.</div>
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After success the first evening out, I had to try my hand again. The day Jen and I parked at Pipeline aid station, we took a wrong turn when we drove in. I'm glad we did, because I spotted a pool of water with several fish swimming. I had to go back. I caught two more little dudes. Forgive the pun, but I'm officially hooked on fly fishing. <br />
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Well, I guess it's time to sign off. The next post will be LT100 Race day recap!Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-60571081999440337542013-08-01T08:30:00.000-07:002013-08-01T08:33:18.219-07:00Happy 90th Granny!My grandmother turned 90 years old yesterday. She is one of my best
friends in the whole world and I have learned so much from her. Here are just a few of the life lessons my Granny has
taught me over the years:<br />
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1) <b>Enjoy life.</b> Granny loved to do many things. Snow ski. Play tennis. Play cards. Bird watch. I adopted my love of birds from my grandparents.<br />
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2) <b>Be yourself.</b> If you like the purple hat, then wear it. This was Granny's ski hat with pins from all the places she's been. I still have it and wear it with pride.</div>
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3) <b>Wherever you are, be there. </b>It sounds simple, but these words have helped my restless soul find peace in the present. </div>
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4) <b>No use in complaining.</b> </div>
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5) <b>You're never to old to learn something new.</b> Several of the aids where Granny lives only speak Spanish. She had me make her a vocabulary list of words and phrases she could practice so she could communicate with them. </div>
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6) <b>Be proud of those you love. </b>Granny loves her family. Her conversation more times than not revolves around her daughters, their daughters, her sons-in-law, her great-grandkids, and Pampa Moose (my grandfather who passed away many years ago).</div>
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7) <b>If it's good for the soul, it must be good for you. </b> Granny has always loved sweets, but in the last few years, she has narrowed her taste buds to a simple pleasure: chocolate! For her 90th birthday, we got her 90 Hershey bars. I think she liked it.<br />
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I love the look on Granny's face when we walked in with the basket of chocolate bars.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcn3bb1KS1wC45dXnQv5lnSRXh3eRROVnfthCHtS2g68LhBjNIjFCovRdyj0kH8oo9AtcRz5P69ngMc81FykgH537CX7ID-RgrqZUGoa89paAZlt1eZdWT3cS6_z7mrNmzlomMUIBYmM/s1600/IMG_1491.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcn3bb1KS1wC45dXnQv5lnSRXh3eRROVnfthCHtS2g68LhBjNIjFCovRdyj0kH8oo9AtcRz5P69ngMc81FykgH537CX7ID-RgrqZUGoa89paAZlt1eZdWT3cS6_z7mrNmzlomMUIBYmM/s640/IMG_1491.jpg" width="480" /></a><br />
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Happy Birthday Granny. </div>
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Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8629251526616803165.post-8916910007004368562013-07-31T07:52:00.000-07:002013-07-31T07:58:46.283-07:00Guest Post: Laura Phillips <span style="background-color: #674ea7;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Czech Republic and Austria bike tr<span style="background-color: white;">ip </span><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span></span></i></span><br />
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My cousin and her husband celebrated 25 years of marriage this month. How did they celebrate? A bike trip through Europe. (Pictures from <a href="http://backroads.com/">backroads.com</a> and the Phillips) <br />
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Laura and her husband are professors at Abilene Christian University. Love that Wildcat jersey!<br />
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Here is a 4-day recap from emails Laura sent out to the family. The pictures, except the last one, are from the company's website and may not be congruent with the daily post, I'll have to get the experts to help me out. <br />
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<i><b>Day 1-Tuesday</b></i><br />
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<i>Today we rode 38 miles (from Alenina Lhota to Tabor). The temperature
was nice. We had a little rain--just enough to be refreshing. Our hotel
room is awesome. Very spacious with an excellent view of the town
square. In an hour we'll have a group dinner and then, hopefully, a
good night's sleep before we start again tomorrow. </i><i><br />Mark posted a
couple of pictures on Facebook. There are 19 people in our group. Two
other couples are also celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. <br /><br />Each
day we have 1 support person on a bike and 2 in vans. We're at about
the same fitness level as the rest of the group. We don't ride in a pack
but it's still nice not to feel like we're holding things up. <br /><br />The
Czech Republic is much hillier than Abilene. I was, not surprisingly,
more comfortable with the up part of that than the down part. :)<br /><br />We
saw a large herd of large deer with large antlers (in velvet). Also,
several deer blinds. Someone told us they "farm" them; then hunt them.</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7aaXtZb6QJ_y-Gj79-k95u-wB8RDMTkQItZAlPl6OJpmr6TVx1lxKnInu1kUwOVhbOUi7uJwsB_YiEKaSgbl8MmDaW378TRKAh7CB3QsVNz0gQUPUcSDt2n-Bci3KCpI5uFgsaj_Z7w/s765/BZAQ-czechrepublic-biking-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7aaXtZb6QJ_y-Gj79-k95u-wB8RDMTkQItZAlPl6OJpmr6TVx1lxKnInu1kUwOVhbOUi7uJwsB_YiEKaSgbl8MmDaW378TRKAh7CB3QsVNz0gQUPUcSDt2n-Bci3KCpI5uFgsaj_Z7w/s640/BZAQ-czechrepublic-biking-1.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<i><b>Day 2-Wednesday </b></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Today we rode 41 miles, much of it in the rain. The temperature ranged
from 54-57 degrees while we were riding. About 2/3 of the way through
the ride, the whole group stopped for lunch at a little town that was
very old and that had almost completely been abandoned twice. In 1990 it
was made a UNESCO World Heritage Site and since then it's been
restored. Lunch was great. Highlights were goulash, potato and mushroom
soup, and cauliflower pancakes. <br /><br />This may or may not surprise
you... We are not the fastest riders in the group. In fact, we regularly
have people in our group zoom past us. We are, however, above average
at following directions. This afternoon, I was stunned to find out that
we were the first ones back because we'd seen numerous group members go
by. They'd all taken wrong turns at different points. Mark said we're
like the tortoise in "The tortoise and the hare." :)<br /><br />For the next
two nights we are staying in cesky krumlov. We'll have tomorrow
afternoon free so we can go to the castle here, wander around, etc. </i><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7aaXtZb6QJ_y-Gj79-k95u-wB8RDMTkQItZAlPl6OJpmr6TVx1lxKnInu1kUwOVhbOUi7uJwsB_YiEKaSgbl8MmDaW378TRKAh7CB3QsVNz0gQUPUcSDt2n-Bci3KCpI5uFgsaj_Z7w/s765/BZAQ-czechrepublic-biking-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <br />
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<i><b>Day 3-Thursday</b></i><br />
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<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1372625150425_2951" style="font-family: Noteworthy; line-height: 26px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Today
we stayed in cesky krumlov. This is the first day we haven't shuttled
to the start of the ride. We checked the hourly forecast (several times)
and the forecast was for low 50's with 80% chance of rain for every
time period shown. There's a lot to see in cesky krumlov so we just did a
27 mile ride. It rained the whole time but the ride was beautiful. We
were on a bike path through a forest much of the time. The hill up
through the forest was VERY steep and about four kilometers long. (Not
all of it was super steep.) We, and several of our trip friends, stopped
at a little town on the way back down for tea, coffee, hot chocolate.
We looked like a bunch of drowned rats. The picture is where we stopped
to catch our breath at the top of the really steep part. </i></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1372625150425_2957" style="font-family: Noteworthy; line-height: 26px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1372625150425_2958" style="font-family: Noteworthy; line-height: 26px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>This afternoon we toured a Baroque theater and cesky krumlov castle (which is the 2nd largest castle in the Czech Republic). <a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" rel="nofollow">Tonight</a> we meet with a historian and take a tour of the town before dinner. Should be fun!</i></span></div>
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<img border="0" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjipMrLqKwzAamfvHolLSxGF2kql2hMceARhl5rxYkaxycsVbK-d9Aq5Zw1qq-CPGs0UpuBu-EamIH8nYnZ8Mw-q5XeN-lNERxCFRB2i1EY9qcRgCF0kdSzmWDllHM-CgMzwXufL2HDiEU/s640/BZAQ-czechrepublic-biking-7.JPG" width="640" /></div>
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<i> <b>Day 4-Friday</b></i> <br />
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<i>This picture is in Durnstein, Austria. It's a picture of the abbey
steeple taken through a window of the castle ruins. You can see the
Danube behind it and the vineyards beyond. </i><br />
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<i>Yesterday we rode 47
miles, mostly along bike route #6 which runs along the Danube. That
brought our total for the five days to 201 miles. We rode to Melk, at
one end of the Wachau Valley. We toured the abbey there, ate lunch, and
then rode back. Yesterday was the first day completely without rain.
Hooray! Today, when we are not riding, it is calm and sunny. :) We had a
blast in spite of the weather. It was sad to say good bye to our new
friends. It was kind of like summer camp for adults. </i><br />
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<i>In case you haven't seen it, mark posted some video of us riding on Facebook. <br /><br />Now we are in Vienna. We'll take a train to Budapest this afternoon.</i> <i>Love you. LP</i>Brenda Andresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09397309146149880097noreply@blogger.com