Chipseal, Cobbles, and Pedals

Already, it’s been two weeks since I’ve returned from (until now) the biggest race of my career, the Cascade Cycling Classic.  Believe me,  I was  tired from the intense racing and airport travels.  My plane was delayed so  I didn’t  return to Boston until 4am on a Monday and had to work by 9am.  Needless to say, I took it easy for the week to let my body recover, rest up, and mentally take a break from my bicycle.  It’s near the end of road season and this time last year, I was already done, off the bike, and getting psyched for cross season.  This year, I’ve got one more big race left in me.  It’s a New England classic, the Green Mountain Stage race, held over Labor Day weekend in Vermont.  There will be lots of climbing but nothing compared to Cascades.  The competition won’t be as deep as Cascades either, but there are still many strong riders in the New England area and I want a chance to make the podium this time.

To prepare for Green Mountain, I’ve been doing a combination of Wampituck training races on Tuesdays and lots of moto pacing to help me with my time trialing.  Last week, Aaron and I did our first moto pacing session together, with our friend Owen at the wheel.  I would describe it as  a couple’s ‘Boot Camp’.  By the end of the first lap of a 2 lap course, we were screaming at each other!!  I would hold onto Owen’s wheel, getting the best of the motorcycle draft, and then Aaron would fall off and we’d have to wait, and we went back and forth like that for awhile.  Poor Owen, he had to listen to this mad, cycling couple, bicker in the early hours of the morning!!  But we stopped for a second, figured out what we needed to do, came up with some hand signals, and the second lap was much smoother.  We were smiling and laughing when we finished!  Oh did we ever have to work as a team! So, if you too are in a relationship with someone who also likes to cycle, and you’re looking for a way to bond…maybe try moto pacing together. If you can figure it out and not murder each other or leave each other in the dust, and you survive…you can probably tackle anything together!! Ha ha!

Last weekend, on Sunday, Aaron and I did a road race in the hilly part of CT, called Tokeneke.  It was another New England classic, consisting of two laps and lots and lots of climbing.  My teammate Silke was there and we worked really hard together to try to get a win.  We came short, but were really close.  The first lap, it wasn’t but 20 minutes or so into the race and the girl, Kristen, who eventually broke away and won the race, attacked and Silke and a few other girls made it into the break.  I was right there but had made a huge effort, moments before, so I was unable to get up to the break and stay.  I hung back with a group of 8 riders, all who were very determined and worked really hard to catch the break.  Since my teammate Silke was up the road, I just sat at the back and let the other girls do all the work.  I could tell it pissed a few of them off…but it seemed they didn’t have a team and understand the dynamics of tactics.  Anyhow, our group caught the girls on the back end of the first lap. By then, I was recovered, almost warmed up and took charge of the long 2 mile climb to start of our 2nd and final lap.

Due to the pace, we had whittled our group from the start of over 50 riders to about 12 of us.  Silke and I were very cautious of any activity and tried to control the group.  After the first lap, we reached a small hill and Silke and I, just not even trying managed to get away for a moment on the decent. I looked back and noticed a gap was forming.  “Silke!!” I yelled, “Let’s GO!!!”  So we took off, but soon realized with the slight headwind, we would get caught and we didn’t want to use all the juice in our tanks.  There were a few more climbs the proceeded, one onto a broken road.  I just went my own pace at the front, not trying to break away, but when I crested the hill, I looked back and I had a significant lead.  I clicked into my big ring and just started hauling ass down the hill!!  It turned onto a newly paved highway and flat.  I motored as hard as I could go.  I was probably away for a few miles.  I saw the girls gaining, and I knew I’d be caught.  I jumped back into the group, now only about 8 riders.  It wasn’t 5 minutes later that Kristen clicked into her big rig, right on the hill…I saw it too and thought, “Oh, she’ll never stay away.”  She took off, pushing all her body into that giant gear and somehow, she got away!!  It wasn’t even a quick escape, she just pushed a big gear (it almost looked painful) and she gaped us.  We didn’t take it as serious as we should have, and it wasn’t but a few rollers later that we could no longer see her!  I was dumbfounded.  So, a few people tried bridging up to Kristen…including myself.  We were gaining on her, but by the time we were down to a minute, we were getting close to the last climb and everyone had given up and wanted to save themselves for the final sprint. 

I led the group up the final climb.  I kept an eye on my power, just to make sure I wasn’t working too hard.  And when I saw the 1K to go, my eyes and ears were all alert.  It was 500 m to go and one of the girls attacked.  Immediately I jumped on her wheel and held on.  I waited until about 300m and then gave it everything I had.  I sprinted, hoping to go around the girl, another rider, right at the end came around both of us and took us by suprise.  I was 3rd in the sprint and 4th overall.  I got enough money from the pay-out to buy Aaron and I some candy for the car ride home! 

Aaron’s race didn’t go as well as he wanted.  The heat and humidity got to him on the last lap.  “What happened?!” I said.  “You were right there in the feed zone!”  “I don’t know…the heat really got to me…I feel flat.”  “Don’t worry,” I told him as we rode side by side to the car, “don’t let it get to you…this was just not a good day, next time will be better.”

He’s at Trek Worlds now (in Madison), but tomorrow he will fly back and we will drive to Salem, MA to tear it up at the Witches Cup!

Many of you are probably wondering how the Cascades all sorted out.  As it seems, I still have a bit of work to do.  My final two days of racing were not up to par with what I would like to see myself doing, but this was the longest and toughest stage race I have done thus far in my career. My body just got fatigued in the end and struggled to recover from hard efforts exerted during the race.

Yesterday was the down town criterium in Bend.  My legs felt great on the start line and I had every intention of attacking.  My husband Aaron had been pestering me all week to make and attack off the front, “Then I will see your picture in cyclingnews,” he reasoned.  It sounded great, but much harder once it came down to the tangible event.  I started at the back, and immediately the group was stretched out.  It wasn’t nearly as fast as Nature Valley as many people at this race were more climbers than sprinters, but still, after about 5 laps, my body felt the toll of fatigue.  Before the race, I had noticed that my rear Zip 808 was flat, so I had to use my junk wheel.  It just had no ‘go’ out of the corners (when I needed it most), and I struggled to move up.  It was during a prime lap where the pace picked up that I lost the wheel in front of me and fell back. There was a group of 6 of us that worked well together to try to catch back on, and then it was survival mode…trying to finish enough laps to continue on to the next stage.  We were cut from the crit with only about 5 laps remaining.  I was beat. 

When I got to the house that night, I spent extra time stretching and rolling my legs out with the rolling pin.  I needed my muscles to work for me…just one more day! 

Today was the final stage of Cascades, a 52 mile circuit race on Aubrey Butte.  It was in the later part of the 90′s, very hot and our start was at 1PM.  It seemed like we waited all day to start…my hands were sweating from anxiety. I wanted so bad to make a break today and I knew that I had it in me, I just needed to stay positive.  We started, with the group all together for most of the first lap.  Our climb up the first hill to the feed zone seemed at ease.  We took a turn through a few neighborhoods and then up the major climb with a few switchbacks. I saw the Vera Bradly girl, Cara with the sprinter’s jersey drop her chain as we climbed the hill.  “Maybe if I blog about chain-drop,” I thought, “I’ll get lots of hits.” (Just referring to how ridiculous the coverage on the Tour has been over a rider…Schleck, dropping his chain! I mean, they were analyzing it like it was a crime or a new type of disease had been discovered!)  Everyone was together, but just as we crested, a break formed.  There was a concrete median in the road, so I was unable to move up the pack.  I wanted to get in the break.  So, once the road opened up, I attacked and started bridging up to the break group.  But as I went, I heard taunting from a few girls on the larger teams, “Oh, just let her go!” they said in the most condescending tone.  And god, did it ever get to my head! At that moment, instead of having all the personal power I should have and thinking, “I’ll show you!” Instead I felt like a no-body and looked back and saw the group catching me.  I was heart broken.  “At least I tried,” I thought to myself. The group was swept up about 5 miles later. 

We stayed together for the the second lap, except the heat was starting to take it’s toll on everyone.  Especially me.  We were desperate for water in the feed zone. Everyone was together, but after moving through the neighborhoods and up the climb, my legs just had no ‘go’.  I was dropped about half way up. The group wasn’t far up the road for many miles, but my legs would just not ‘go’. I had nothing. So, for the final lap, I road alone.  I was disappointed that I would not be there on the final climb and a chance to finish in the top…but I was relieved that the race was almost over and that, yes, I’d survived!! The heat was getting to my head, so I took 2 water bottles in the feed zone. Then on the final climb, a spectator held out a fresh can of Coke and I drank that too.  A man with no shirt, baggy shorts and flip-flops, took off running beside me up to the top, “Come on!  I know you can do it, you’re almost there!” It was like I was riding in the Tour!  I chuckled at how funny the spectators were.  I finished, just 11 minutes down from the winning time.  I was beat and relieved to be done. “Next year…” I thought to myself.  This is just another stepping stone.  I’ll get better and stronger, and you’ll see, one of these days, just for you, Aaron, I’ll get my picture on cyclingnews:)

Happy to finally give the legs a rest.

Yesterday was another spectacular 71 mile road race around the Cascade Lakes.  This event took place along the highway so our speeds were just zooming fast.  We started about 25 miles from Bend and did a loop, ending nearly 10 miles up the road from our start.  It was an incredible day and it seemed like the time blew by.  I would say this was one of my better races as I encountered a few obstacles along the way but was able to overcome them with pride.

Our race started with a 5K full gas, gut-spewing effort up the highway. Amity had warned Anna and I that the start would be fast, but mentally, we were not prepared for a full out effort! My legs weren’t quite awake yet, so when the attacked started, immediately up the hill, I saw myself falling backwards, to the point I was hanging onto the wheels of the sprinters.  Immediately I was frustrated with myself as we reached the top and the other groups had a lead on us.  I was worried that I wouldn’t get a second chance and I would spend the next 68 miles at the very back.  But, to my luck, our group was flying down the highway and within 10 minutes, we caught back onto the main field.  It wasn’t till after the race that I found out a small group of about 5 riders had actually gone off the front and stayed away until the last 10K’s to go. Once we caught the group, it was a such a relief, but soon there was a pile-up in the middle of the road.  I was able to avoid the crash and the rest of the peleton waited as their teammates were in the pile.

We continued on the highway, cruising at a good rate.  The course would be rolling to flat until the last 10miles.  I tucked into the group for awhile but then moseyed on up to the front and started working the front with the 2012 team and the Webcor riders. For about 20 minutes, the 8 of us took quick pulls up at the front.  I moved back into the pack to rest and soon the last feed zone was coming up. 

I didn’t want to miss this feed as I was running low on water, so I moved into the right lane.  Amity was in the feed zone, and I grabbed a fresh bottle from her outstretched arms.  “Thanks!” But as I moved back into the left lane, I felt my front wheel wobble.  The girl behind me snapped at me, “Watch it!” I felt my front tire get softer and softer, and I knew that it was going flat.  So, right at the end of the feed-zone, I pulled off, raised my hand and pulled my wheel off the front, holding it in the air for the neutral car to see.  Almost immediately, the neutral mechanic, pulled off, grabbed a new wheel, threw it on my bike and gave me a nudge back on the road.  I took off, pedaling as hard as I could.  I could see the peleton ahead, but I knew that I’d have to give everything I had to catch them or otherwise, I would be stuck alone for the last 20 miles.  For about 5 minutes, I drilled it, drafting behind team cars, and then moving up to the next car.  Car by car, I moved up until finally I made it back onto the peleton. I was completely blown and out of breath. I tucked into the peleton for a brief rest, but then with 10 miles to go, I moved up to about the 10th wheel. I could see Mara’s and Catherine’s wheel and I was watching every move they made.  “I can do this,” I thought to myself.  From 10K-7K to go the hill pitched up and the pace increased.  It was about 7K to go that I finally could not hold the wheel any longer.  My teammate Anna passed me, “Come on Melissa!” But my engine had run out of gas. Anna Barnesfield passed by too, “Let’s go Melissa!” I just pedaled, but I was out of energy.  So close, but yet so far it seemed. I finished, just a few minutes back from the winners and 41st overall.  My GC moved up from 51st to 47th. 

Finish of Cascade Lakes Road Race

 I was very happy about how the race went for me as I was able to chase back on after a flat, move to the front and hang onto the best climbing wheels until nearly the end.  I feel like this year is just another stepping stone for next year.  I just need a little more fitness, which I can only get from doing these races, and just more mental confidence.  I think when it comes down to crunch time, and I’m actually with the top riders, mentally I get a little excited, and then all of a sudden, intimidated.  It all comes down to the very end…that’s where I just need to lay it all on the line.

Today was our 14 mile TT, up Skyliner’s road and back down. Again the weather was perfect with only a breeze and upper 80′s.  This past year, I have been struggling with my time trialing, struggling to get the results and just having a hard time focusing for the sustained effort.  Since the first week of May, my powertap has been held hostage by Saris, as they’ve been extremely backed up on work and orders, so I have had no computer data to give me any sort of feed back.  I’ve resorted to blaming the computer. “I need data,” I told my coach Frank, after a disappointing TT.  “I don’t know where I am…I feel lost.” He kept telling me over and over again, “Melissa, it’s not the computer,” he’d chuckle, “you need to learn how to listen to your body.”  But I’d be relentless on using a computer.  I’d hook up a spedometer and go off of speed.  I don’t use a heart-rate monitor because I haven’t used one in so long…I wouldn’t know what my goal zones would be anyhow…and besides the strap restricts your chest for breathing.

So, this weekend, I took it as a sign, an omen, that when my speedometer…the only computer I had, was shredded in my bladed spokes, that indeed, I would have to listen to my body and TT like the wind.  I’m reading a book right now called the Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho and I’ve read it about 100 times since I got the book in high school. Anyhow the book is about following your dreams…you know those dreams that you have since you’re a little kid, but for most people, they forget about them when they become adults.  I haven’t…I’m still on the quest for my childhood dream!  Anyhow, last night as I was reading, the story was talking about the shepard boy, turning himself into the wind. 

So, today, as I was riding my heart out…and finally staying focused and in a rhythm, I made the turn around into a slight headwind (it was really just a breeze but turns into a wind when you’re flying at 30+ mph).  Earlier I had been passed by my 30 second person but decided not to mentally give in, so I stayed consistent.  As I started screaming down the Skyliner’s highway, pushing my biggest gear, my face had transformed into the face of determination; mouth open, saliva coming out of the creases of my mouth, snot coming out my nose and sweat trickling down past my eyes, then quickly drying to my cheeks. I pushed hard and soon, I realized I was making time back on the girl who’d passed me going up the climb.  I wanted my dignity back.  I knew I could catch her.  I pushed so hard, with more focus than I’ve ever had.  My thighs burned as I turned  the ginormous gear over and over again. As the breeze blew in my face, drying all the moister coming from my mouth and nose, I could tell this girl was fighting the wind.  “I have to become the wind,” I thought to myself.  I kept thinking it over and over again.  The wind is who I am…I came from the wind on the plains of Wyoming.  The wind is my friend.  I blew past her with 5K to go.  I pushed harder and harder and finished strong. 

As I rode back to my host house, following my TT, I was grinning from ear to ear.  Never in so long had I had so much fun doing a time trial!  I felt as if I’d finally got my rhythm and focus back. I got my dignity back. I wouldn’t brag about my results, as I placed 69th in the time trial today, however I did move up a spot on the GC from 52nd to 51st. The important thing is that I now know that I can listen to my body and I can improve.  Tomorrow will be another great day on the bike and full of new adventures.

Unfortunately, my 2 mile prologue turned out to be a big joke. I had pre-rode the course a hundred time and had the best possible warm-up, I could ever image, but yet, my 2 mile event did not go as planned…such is life. As the official’s fingers in front of me, went from five, down to one, I rolled off the start ramp and immediately heard a clanking, then a high pitch squeal as my front wheel become more and more resistive.  I had barely made it 200 meters as the frequency of the squeal increased along with the resistance.  I shook my head, “this has to be a big joke!” So just past 400 meters, I pulled off the road, assessed my front wheel, noticing my speedometer sensor’s zip ties had been shredded in my bladed spokes and the senor was just hanging and ready to jam my wheel.  My front brake had somehow moved when my sensor got caught in the wheel and was completely rubbing on the wheel.  So I quickly fixed the brake, and moved the sensor so it was least likely to jam my front wheel.  I hopped back on my bike, to pedal with much more ease as my wheel was free from the brake, but still I kept an eye on the sensor, praying that it wouldn’t catch my wheel and force me on the pavement.  The 2 miles was so short and when I finished, my adrenalin was rushing but I didn’t feel as if I’d exerted everything.  I was frustrated, but still was able to laugh it off.  “At least it was just a 2 mile and didn’t happen coming down the mountain!” So, I only lost a minute in time, but was still placed dead last: 105th.  “Only where to go is up up up!” I texted my friend Christy that night.

Anna on the start ramp.

Prologue finish

Wednesday (yesterday), was a majestic mountainous course.  It was the first time in a very long time that I felt like  I was actually doing a ‘road race’.  Probably the last time I felt that was racing Limosine in France.  Our start was 70 miles from Bend, and finished up a mountain about 30 miles from town.  So, logistically, we had some planning to do.  Our host, Lea, bless her heart, helped us drop our car off 10 miles from the finish and took us to the start. Weather wise, it was the most perfect day for riding, the wind was just a breeze (though the east-coasters will tell you it was ‘windy’) and the temperature was high 80′s.  

If any of you have checked out cyclingnews or any other news sources, you’ll know that the depth of competition in our field is pretty phenomenal this year.  With some of the top climbers in the world, including Mara Abbott, and Catherine Cheatley, and a full team to support them during the race, the Cascades was not going to be an easy breeze to the finish.

The first 20 miles of our race was a fast descent down the highway.  It was only about 10 minutes into the race when a break of 7ish riders came off the front, including the top contenders. It moved further and further up the road as teammates of the riders were slowing the pace of the peleton. I tucked in and decided to conserve as much as possible before the major climbs ahead.  As we raced down the highway at speeds I will never know (since my sensor was conveniently shredded the day before), cars and large trucks were pulled off the side of the road.  We came to a few wide switchbacks in the highway where many vehicles were pulled off, our speed was incredible, and soon, all in slow motion, there were ladies flying over their handle bars, doing somersaults in the air, breaks were burning, and I did everything in my power to avoid hitting the fallen and flying bikes, at the same time, easing on my brakes so I wouldn’t skid and take myself out, or burn a hole in my tire. I got around the mess…safe.  “Holy shit!” My heart was racing…that was scary. I saw my teammate Amity pull off to the side with a flat wheel.  She had barely avoided the crash and in the process blew a hole in her tubular tire.  As the mechanics and support crew were attending to the very injured riders; included a possible pelvic/hip fracture, and broken collar bone, Amity had to hike up the hill to get a wheel.  In the end, she missed the time cut for the race and was out for the remainder of the stages.  It’s the rules, you have to finish within a certain percentage of the winning time, to move on to the next stage.

After the crazy decent, the climbing began. Personally, I love climbing and I’m pretty good at it, but when you compare me to a Mara Abbott, I still have some work to do!  turned onto an 8 mile climb with a pretty good grade.  The pace increased as each switchback  in the lush Oregon forest, Team Vera Bradly or Colivita would attack to help their lead rider catch up to Mara. I stayed on the main/front group, pushing through the pain.  It was about 4 miles up the climb that I felt like puking and my brain said to me, “Melissa, why do you think this is fun? How long can you sustain this effort.”  I pushed and held on but with one more attack, I couldn’t hang on to the wheel and fell back.  I looked behind and many riders had already been whittled off the back as the pace was hard to sustain.  “I have to work on increasing my ‘pain-cave’.” I stayed within the caravan of team cars and worked my way up the climb.  I caught a few riders and worked with them but moved further up the road. Finally, the road flattened out for a mile or so and a group of 20 women caught up to me.  I was relieved to have someone to work withbut at the same time kind of bummed that I wasn’t in the group ahead. We worked together to try to increase the time gap to the group ahead and made our way past the majestic snow covered peaks and volcanic rocks, to the feed zone for a relief of fresh water.  I dumped the water on my neck, squirted it in my mouth and stuck it back in my cage. 

We started our twisty descent down the mountain.  Anna Barnesfield took the front and lead the long and technical decent as I hung out in the back as I’m still a little timid on the fast switchbacks.  We made our way to the flats, to the next feed zone and finally our last climb to the finish. The sun beat down on us and I could feel the insides of my legs wanting to cramp.  I read on my coach’s blog (fascatcoaching.com) that cramping is sometimes a sign of muscle fatigue and if you just push through it, and mentally push through it, it will loosen up enough to not destroy your race.  I moved to the top 3 women in my group and pushed the pace on the climb as I could see another group up the road. With about 10 K to go, Anna Barnesfield, another rider with a blue poka-dot jersey, and I broke away from our group and started moving up the road. Slowly, we were making our way to the finish.  Time seemed to inch by as I was ready to just get off the saddle and pour water all over my head. “Come-on Melissa,” Anna called out, and I hung onto her wheel. We caught another girl on the climb, but soon I couldn’t hang onto Anna’s wheel.  It was crunch time as we were almost finished . We were not in contention but in GC terms, every minute is important.  I was alone for a couple of K’s and then the group caught back up to me for the final 2 K’s.  I stayed at the front and we finished together.  Relief.

My teammate Anna McLoon had an extraordinary day as she was 16th overall.  I had finished 47th.  Much better than 105th the day before.  But still, only way to keep going is up, up, up!!

As I’m sitting here in the cool mountain air, listening to the many birds chirping, and planning my coffee run, my body is finally adapting to the 3 hour time zone difference.  I slept over 12 hours last night.  I had to.  I was so beat from the early morning airport run, and then staying up 3 hours later because of the time difference. Yesterday was just a ride in a plane for Anna and I as we were on the same flights from Boston to Bend, OR, but for our teammate Amity, Cascades was a journey as she drove across the entire country from Virginia; stopping in Boulder at teammate Jill’s house, and then Boise, ID at my dear family friend’s farm (Chan & Cathy Cabalo), then onto Bend, OR where she was waiting to pick Anna and I up from the airport.  It was a journey alright, spending nights here and there, sleeping the the back of her Suburu Imprenza, and just living life on the edge. She brought her computer and when she found a wireless cafe, she caught highlights of the Tour on versus.com.  For Amity, getting to the Cascade Cycling classic was more than packing a bike into a box and hopping on a plane, it was a journey. 

Now that we are here, the race will begin. Adrenalin rushes through my body just thinking about the challenges that lay ahead this week.  Tomorrow is the 2 mile prologue.  Wednesday, a 74 mile road race through Aantiam Pass Snow Park. Thursday, a 14 mile time trial from Summit High School. Friday, a 72 mile race to Wanoga. Saturday, is the criterium in Downtown Bend. Finally on Sunday, the 52 mile Awbrey Butte Circuit Race.

Our week will be full of challenges.  Not just from all the climbing and fierce competition, but also figuring out the logistics.  Some of the races are point to point and we will need to find a ride from the finish, back to our car at the start. But we are prepared and ready to tackle anything.

As some of you may have read (if you follow CyclingNews, or VeloNews, or some sort of news), Sunday was the famous International Liberty Bell Classic, in Philly.  It was the union of many great international riders, both male and female, in one city. Traditionally, the men and women, do not race in the same city for professional races, however, every now and then, there is a classic event where spectators can get the best of both worlds.  For women, it’s a treat because as sad as the truth may be, there are more fans of men’s sports (in general), and many more fans of men’s professional cycling.  So, Sunday, I was able to take part in a very extraordinary event.  It wasn’t just that my idols, who flew in from Europe were racing with me, or that it was a prestigious event, but there was an atmosphere that is hard to explain.  The people of Philly look forward to the Liberty Bell Classic and from the day the athletes arrive in town, they are the most welcoming of hosts, saying “hello” and “good luck tomorrow” on the streets and the elevators. They cheer as you are just taking a spin over the course the day before the big race. Even the entire 14 mile loop is closed to traffic, to keep the riders safe.  Thousands of people, young, and old, and of many colors and backgrounds line the streets to cheer the elite group of riders. 

I drove down on Saturday with my teammate, Anna McLoon in her beat-up Honda.  Anna’s a PhD student at Harvard and was hoping her car would last one more year.  We drove down 95, the windows rolled down as the air-conditioning was non-existent. Past New York City and headed south. Anna drove most of the way, and after we passed New York, we stopped at a rest area and switched drivers.  I had bee the navigator and decided that we would continue south until we saw signs for Philly.  This didn’t yield to be a great idea.  Once we reached Delaware, Anna said to me, while looking at the map.  “Melissa, I think we’ve passed Philly by 30 miles…we were on the wrong 95. “  So, long story short, we eventually found our way to Philly, amused by ourselves and how many states we’d driven through.  On arrival, we got our stuff together and rode the course; two times up the Manayunk Wall. Many of the streets had already been barricaded off, and it appeared a fraternity on the Manayunk had already started drinking for the following morning.  They cheered wildly as just Anna and I practiced the enduring climb.

Anna and I are pre-riding the 'Wall'

Four of us shared a room at the host hotel.  After Anna and I finished our ride, it was time to shower, get some grub and rest for the next day.  I had briefly sat down to stretch but when I stood up, my Achilles/ankle sort of went out on me and it hurt the rest of the night.  I was a little concerned for the next day, since I’ve be doing a lot of climbing.  I hardly slept that night.  I was too excited about the race, excited about all the people and the European riders.  I was excited about the pain I’d feel riding up the Wall.  I noticed one of my teammates had frequently awakened during the night, and it turned out she’d gotten a bit of food poisoning.  She was so dehydrated and worried about racing in the heat, but was a trooper and got on the start line.  During my warm-up, my back tubular Zip wheel blew out, so the Mavic support crew gave me a wheel to use. “You’re lucky this happened now instead of 20 minutes from now,” he said.

We staged for our race about 20 minutes before the actual start.  The Pro-Men’s field was racing the same course, but starting 10 minutes ahead of us. Last year, the women’s field actually passed the men’s!  My nerves were going crazy at this time and it was so hot.  I felt nauseous with anxiety.  I heard my teammates laughing behind me.  “Melissa,” they said, “look at your legs!”  I had a cat 4 tattoo (chain ring mark) all over my calf.  I’m notorious for getting bike grease all over myself.

Finally, we hit the line, and the race began. All 120 women bunched together.  Nothing exciting happened the first long stretch, but as we headed down the road to before the right hand turn to the Manayunk climb, people were moving forward, fighting for a position at the front.  I was not in a great position when we hit the climb, and riders and screaming fans surrounded me as I moved up the hill.  Air horns, people spraying water, bells ringing, shouting.  It was all a blur. The climb was so steep you had to stand up most of the way, and push, push, push, over the top as it was there that the field would break apart.  You come screaming down the hill with a right, left, and right hand turns, pushing a big gear and tucking down to try to catch back onto the front group.  Even though the pack would get destroyed on the climb, it would come back together.  There were two more climbs on the end of the 14 mile loop, but they were nothing compared to Manayunk.

Our field was doing 4 laps.  Every now and then on the straight, Kelly Drive, we’d cross path’s with the men’s field. When we came through the start/finish area, I heard the announcer say we’d had a faster lap time than the men’s field. (I’ll note, they were doing twice the distance as us, but it felt good to get compared!)  I think as a whole group, we try every chance to show the world that females are just as exciting or more so than the men. 

After the first lap, the race started to heat up with more crashes of small groups, riders suffering from the heat, falling off the back during the climb, or people just taking themselves out on the corners coming down the Manayunk.  It was after the second time up the hill, when I was chasing back to the front group with another girl, and I heard a loud “boom” and her tire had completely blown off the rim!!  We were riding about 40+mph and she nearly wiped out as she tried to slow while her rims were rolling on the pavement. It was sketchy! A few other girls were right behind me and we worked together and caught the peleton before the 2nd climb.  The third lap, I tried moving up more to the front.  I was fairly successful at this, yet it was a challenge as the field was constantly moving forward.  You’d be at the front one minute, and the next, you’d be 60 riders back. This lap, I moved up before the wall, hoping to stay at the front, but in an instant before the turn, I was again swallowed to 30 or 40 riders deep. I was strong on the climb and would pass at least 10-20 riders going up, but it was that last push over the crest that separated everyone.  You’d get stuck behind someone who’d opened a gap and get screwed into chasing all over again. 

This time, the chase was more challenging.  My friend Rebecca Wellon’s was in that group, but she looked so drained from the heat.  I had two teammates who stayed in the front group each lap, Anna and Denise. I was the third Kenda rider back.  This time, we had to chase until we were over the 2nd climb.  We moved through the caravan of team cars and snuck back on before the Lemon Hill Climb.  It was right after that, Jeannie Longo attacked the field and had a good 45 seconds on the field.  I laughed and shook my head. I wondered if she’d time-trial away.  But, we caught her.  Jeannie throughout the race, would one minute be in front of me, and the next she’d come around me…always up the Wall too!  It wasn’t too long into our final lap that we caught Jeannie. The pace picked up slightly, but the pack had been whittled down from all the people either getting pulled or dropping out. I moved up more before the climb but it crazy with women fighting for position.  I should have been more aggressive, as this moment was the most important determiner of the finish.  Again, like the other laps, the front group had a gap on me.  There were a couple of riders in my group, but no one, except Kasey Manderfield, wanted to chase back up. They probably had a teammate up the road and their job was finished.  I wanted to move up, so I’d have a better placing, but we just weren’t making any ground and the front peleton sped up and even split in two. We came across the line, only 2 minutes back. 

After the race, I returned the Mavic wheel and proceeded to walk my bike and find water.  I was so exhausted from the heat and found a public fountain to jump in, and cool off. Other riders followed suite and it turned into a moment at the water park.

Philly was an awesome race and something I’ve been reminicing about all week.  It’s always a treat to ride with the best that cycling has to offer and on top of that, have a European Cycling culture to surround it. Next week…it’s Nature the Nature Valley Grand Prix!

Anna and I on our roadtrip.

So there we were, two chic’s driving down the open road, windows rolled down, music blaring, and a race playing in our heads. My husband Aaron once told me that two women driving was a dangerous situation. I beg to differ….it’s a pretty awesome adventure. Anna Barnesfield and I were headed to the Wilmington Grand Prix and Kelly Cup in Wilmington, DE and Baltimore, MD. Anna was racing both days as I was only racing the Kelly Cup on Sunday as I didn’t make the Wilmington roster in time. It was a relief to be driving on the open road after a very stressful day at the office. While all that stress was being left behind in Norwood, I was ready for some mid-Atlantic crit action.

“That’s weird,” Anna said, “You’d think there would be some sign that said ‘hotel’ or something.” We checked in, and even though the missing sign made it appear to be a little sketchy, the room had a fridge, stove, and even peace and quiet for a good night’s rest. The next morning we left with good time for Anna to warm up and check out the course in Wilmington. A man had been pacing back and forth by our hotel window on the first floor and even by our car as we were packing up to go. We had driven out and were ready to cross the intersection to Dunkin Donut’s for our morning cup o’ Joe when we saw him behind us. “If he’s stalking us,” I said, “this would make a great story in my blog.” But he turned the other way and we continued on our journey with nothing but an imagination to turn something into an exaggerated event.

Bicycles everywhere!

Afterwards, bikes flooded the course and the pro women were the first to go. I had wandered off on my own ride but returned in time to watch the race. Deep down, I felt so envious of the riders because I was there, and I wanted to be in the race so badly and not have to be a bystander. But I did find it’s advantages of watching from a new perspective. The course was technical and fast with many turns and a few short climbs. Immediately the field stretched out from the high speed and soon a break formed with 5 women. I watched every move the riders made at many different points on the course. Who attacked, when, and what did they look like when they made their move. Were they aggressive, or passive? What was their facial expressions, where were their teammates, and who were the dominant riders? Everything I absorbed so I could use for when I’d race against them. My teammates were very aggressive, especially Silke and Anna McLoon made a huge move with 3 laps to go and attempted bridging up to the lead group. She didn’t quite make it, but still she finished in 8th place which was very commemorative!

Wilmington Call-Ups

After the race, watched the men. The rain started to come down and made the course very slippery. There were many crashes. My college teammate, Clayton Barrows was racing and at the front riding aggressively, but with only about 10 laps to go, I couldn’t find him anymore. I wasn’t sure if he crashed or had a mechanical or something. Anna and I met up with another girl named Amy and drove to Baltimore to stay the night. We were on the outskirts of town, which most people might call the partial ghetto, but Anna thought it was more like the ‘suburbs’. Our hotel again gave us something to talk about and laughter too! I was excited to finally get some usage out of my legs.

Sunday we got to the course early again. Since Kelly Cup was no longer an NRC event, some of the bigger teams had left town, but a few ladies stayed for the race, including Kasey Manderfield and Laura Van Guilder. The course was more loopy, without any real turns, so it kept the field together. The first few laps were a little slow but once a prime bell rang, it brought on the intensity. I stayed near the front but would get pushed back on every now and then. On lap 10 there was a prime and I planned my attack perfectly, grabbing two other wheels in front of me and riding them until just 50 meters from the line, I attacked and sprinted with all my might. I looked the line, just 2 feet away and thought for sure I had the prime, but in one instant, Laura Van Guilder, the sprinting legend, blew right past me, putting me right in my place. “Damn!!” I thought, laughing under my breath at same time, jumping to grab Laura’s wheel as she escaped up the road. I ended up pulling the pack with me, but as the pace had increased, girls were falling off the back. Laura had attacked again and broke away up the road but the group caught her. The last lap came up on me unexpectedly as I thought for sure there were still 2 laps to go. “One lap to go….one lap to go!” The bell was ringing wildly! I had to move up but everyone was moving up too. The pace was so fast and I was a little terrified on the turns, but I knew that I had to stay on the wheels. I didn’t get up far enough in time when the sprint broke loose. I came in 26th. I was not satisfied but I was happy with how aggressive I rode during the race….just have to work on my position at the end, where it really counts.

We cooled down, packed the car, and even brought a Kiwi with us. She needed a place to stay before Somerville and I remember being in her shoes when I was in Europe. Anna, good hearted, opened her apartment up to a perfect stranger, but fellow rider. “Good Karma with come back to you,” I said to Anna. “Someone will help you out down the road too.” We drove off, getting stuck in traffic in DE, and finally after agonizing hours of stop and go traffic on the interstate, we made it through New Jersey, NY, and finally on 95 to home. The gas light came on and we pulled off 3 times for gas as the first exit did not have a gas station, the 2nd exit had a gas station that was dug up out of the ground and the final third try was our charm. We got our gas and finally got home. I fell asleep still thinking about my race and how I couldn’t wait until this weekend for another chance.

 

Ready for a shower!

Day Three: 69 Mile Road Race

The second road race was a lolly-pop loop with and out and back for the stem and two loops for the lolly-pop. Like the previous stage, the course was hilly, but still did not lend to an opportunity for any breaks to stick. The race ended in a massive pack sprint.

We started off very slow, the 10 miles out to our loops. I sat protected and patient win the mid pack. It wasn’t until we hit the loop that attacks started but I just stayed in the pack, patiently waiting as it was still early. I sat on the race leader’s wheel’s, knowing that the only break that would stick, they’d be in. We rolled past beautiful Arkansas farmland, rolling hills, horses and trees. On the backside of the first loop, my teammate Catherine rolled up beside me, “Melissa, there’s a sharp turn coming up soon, be on the lookout.” I moved forward, staying safe from the burning brakes. A few attacks and breaks formed and I bridged up from the peleton. More attacks and I stayed on their wheels as the field became strung out.

From Left: Carolyn, Marion, Jill, Mitzie, Me, Anna, Kristen, Amity, & Mike (mechanic)

When a group would form up the road, I would always check to see if any Kenda girls were there. The Tibco and Vera Bradley girls were blocking, so I’d push my way through and bridge up. The breaks never lasted long but nonetheless, it made riding the bike so exhilarating! We slowed for awhile and girls had to pee. Allison Powers yelled, “If you have to pee, now’s the time!” Soon girls were stopping, bare asses hanging out alongside the road. The pack neutralized until everyone was back on and then the pace picked up once more. I took a goo to feed and I accidently exploded it all over my arm as I was trying to squeeze it into my mouth. It was a nasty, sticky mess! So I took my arm-warmers and wiped myself clean. The feed zone came and I grabbed and extra bottle in case one of my teammates needed one, moved through the pack, and Anna happened to just finish her other bottle.

Kristen getting recovery drink.

The pace picked up on the second lap and when Allison and Meredith Miller moved to the front, I was right on their wheels. There was a climb where we were strung out, but the pack slowed again. When we reached the stem of the lolly-pop, there was an array of attacks. The entire peleton was strung out over a quarter of a mile. Meredith Mille attacked and stayed away for a brief moment, but the speed was so high and the group swept her up. With 1K to go, everyone was scrambling for front position. Allison and a few GC leaders took guard over their windy, but vital position. I moved up, but was immediately boxed in as the orange barriers narrowed the road and squeezed us together. It was tough to sprint, but I did the best I could with my blocked position. A few of my teammates moved up just in time, so they had a great overall finishing position.

Our AMAZING Host's Marion & Carolyn Smith. THANK YOU!!

Day 4: Criterium

Me chasing.

My body felt fully recovered for the final hurrah of the Joe Martin Stage race. The Pro Women were scheduled to go off at 11:30, so I woke up a smidge earlier than usual, had a breakfast of champions, consisting of a waffle, eggs and bacon, complements of our awesome hosts, Carolyn and Marion Smith, and were driving to the crit by 10am. Upon arrival, we quickly chamioed up, jumped on the 12-corner, uphill course for a quick lap in-between the master races. The course was incredibly technical with an immediate 4 corners beyond the start line, a down-hill stretch, and then 8 more zig-zag turns to a steep uphill finish. I’m personally not big on warming up with a trainer, so I did my warm-up on the hills of downtown Fayetteville. Soon, it was time for action and I felt ready. “Want to go for a prime today?” my manager Paul asked. “Yes! I’m your prime lady!” I announced. The call-up for the top 10 GC riders was made and though I was only in the 2nd row on the staging, girls were aggressive for position. The announcer said “go” and immediately before half the field was clipped into their pedals, someone had started attacking off the front! With the first 4 turns, the field immediately became strung out and gaps were opening in the line. Mentally, I was not prepared for such an explosion as the previous 2 days had been neutral in the beginning, with pack finishes. Ironically enough, the sprinters race had completely broken apart within the first lap and a half. I hung on for that time but was gapped off. As we came around the backside girls were pulling their bikes onto the curbside as they’d been caught up in a crash. There were many crashes throughout the race. My legs were on fire as I saw the count-down and there was still 50 minutes remaining. “Damn, this is fast!” I thought. I looked down at my handle bars where our mechanic Mike had taped a sticker, “Have Fun!” Boy, was I ever having fun! My teammate Jill came around me, “Grab on,” she said. Soon we formed a group of 5 working to catch back up. Each lap I flew up the big climb and took a big pull at the front. With 6 laps to go, we caught another group of 5 riders. We worked hard and I still took the pull up the big climb and on the front side of the course. I could hear the announcer calling out laps and I sensed the lead group was catching us. We only had 3 laps to go but they were right behind us, so we were pulled. Paul later came by with a grin on this face…he knew exactly how I was feeling. “So Mel, where’s our prime money?!” “Yea, I know,” I sighed. “Sometimes,” he paused, “bad things happen to good people,” I later thought about this, especially that night while I was in my Chicago hotel room, exhausted and frustrated as I’d left my cell phone charger at my host house, missed my flight as I was mixed up with the boarding time, all the while I had been eating a giant grilled corned beef sandwich and talking to a Dutch woman who lived in Paris, working as a vet and traveling to the US once a year for Purina. She was enjoying American pizza, and we were chatting about the cultural differences in cycling. Yea, sometimes bad things happen to good people and people make silly mistakes.An older Hispanic customer service rep, named Irma had kindly bended the rules and gotten me on standby for a flight to Boston, no charge. When I had gone to the gate to double check on my luggage and standby status, the lady there happened to be the “rule police.” She noticed I had somehow gotten on standby to a different airport; my only hope of getting home that night. She said, “Mam, I have a problem with you. You should have not been put on this list and you didn’t pay the $50.” “I’ll pay it! Just let me know what I need to do!” “Nope,” she said matter of factly, “I am deleting you from this standby list,” and with a swift punch of her pointer finger, she hit the “enter” and deleted me. I was stunned. Long story short, I had to stay the night, and I felt like an animal for missing my flight. My husband wasn’t thrilled and I would be late to work. But when I got cleared and on the plane to Providence the next morning, I overheard a couple behind me talking about how they’d recently lost their house in a devastating flood. I guess in the scheme of things, I was having a great day compared to what they were going through. Sometimes it’s good that bad things happen as it can really teach you to snap out of it when you start to lose focus. So, now, I’m back on track!

Two love birds at the airport.

Kenda Girls After Road Race

Our manager Paul and Silke cleaning up after race.