Chipseal, Cobbles, and Pedals

Today was one of those days where you wake up, the sun is shining but yet, you just feel a little off. That’s how I felt when I woke up today…maybe a little of Oscar the Grouch came out too. I was tired, and running a little behind. I went to pull my bike out of the basement to head to work and the front tire was flat. My boss had actually jinxed me because the day before, he’d asked me how often I got flat tires and what I did when that happened. “Oh, not too often,” I had told him. I quickly changed the tire, but the pump wasn’t working so Aaron let me use his front wheel. I got to work and just felt like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I put my smile on though. Then I’m in the middle of a meeting and I can hear my phone in the other room, ringing, and ringing, and ringing. Everyone looked at me, “It’s your husband! He’s probably wondering where the forks are!” We all laughed, but the phone continued to ring. Finally, I excused myself and ran to answer it. “Aaron, I’m in a meeting!! What do you need!” “Melissa, the dumpster in our parking lot rolled into our car, I need to find the camera so I can file a police report!” “WHAT!??” So, anyhow, because Aaron and I commute by bike to work, and hardly ever use the car, we have a higher risk of dumpsters crashing into our vehicle or even a tree branch falling on the car than an actual vehicle colliding with our car!! How about that for a statistical fact!

So, Aaron find the camera and by the time he’s going to file the police report, as the station is just two blocks away, he locks himself out of the apartment building. I get another call, “Melissa, I locked myself out of the building.” “Oh, Aaron, what a day. I’ll come rescue you.” Christy, my friend and work buddy gave me a ride down to our apartment as she was headed to grab coffee anyhow. The dent wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, as my mind tends to over exaggerate things to a t. The passenger door just had a deep dent and a scratch along the side.

Soon the afternoon was over and I geared up for a very welcome bike ride. My buddy Phil had gmailed me, “Are you or Rosco going for a ride after work?” “Yes! I am!” So we met up and rode around Sharon. Somehow the bike seemed to make the day turn around. The trees, even though they littered the streets from the blustery wind, seemed to smile, and the flowers had even a brighter tint as I looked from the view on my bike. And now, I’m sitting here, very content and happy, even after an upside down day, because my bike made everything ok again. It’s like when you’re a kid and you fall and you make your mom kiss your owie. My bike did that for me:)

Saturday morning, I was packed up to go to a local race in New Hampshire. My knee had randomly started bothering me the day before, while I was sitting at my desk at the office. I had done an easy spin, avoiding my openers, and kept it propped with ice, and used the I.T band roller too. But, still on Saturday it was a little sore. I have a pretty good pain tolerance and I’m usually bad about letting injuries turn into bad nightmares (my MRSA is a great example!), so I decided that I should consider not racing and have fresh legs for Quabbin on Sunday. I called my coach for a second opinion. He agreed. It wasn’t worth tearing my knee up over a local race. So Saturday, I rested, napped, made delicious energy bars, and packed all the goodies for Sunday. Aaron was racing the 120mile Pro-3 race so I wanted to make sure we had enough water and food for him too.

Sunday, we woke up really early, made an awesome breakfast of champions (coffee, eggs, bacon, & muffins) and carpooled to the Quabbin Reservoir with our friend Bob. Aaron was the first to go off as he would be doing 120miles. Bob, second in the master’s race, and I was in the last group. Our field had 45 riders. It had been lightly raining, but as the roads had been freshly paved a week earlier, the tar from the pavement made it extremely slick. The first few miles was neutral down a screaming descent and it wasn’t 100meters from the start that a girl went down on the slick corner. We were so cautious, and my legs were shivering as the air was cool. I had opted out of the knee warmers and chose embrocation as I figured my knee warmers would just get wet and heavy and fall down my legs. I wore my vest and it seemed to block the chills to my chest. My knee was slightly sore when we started pedaling and climbing the highway. I tucked in the pack and kept moving to warm up my joint. My teammate Silke was riding strong at the front and I made sure keep an eye on my position in case anything were to happen. The group stayed close and my body warmed up. After about 10miles, my knee was loosened and I felt strong. I moved forward.

The course was full of gradual climbs, so the pack stayed together for the most part. Every now and then, someone would move to the front to push the pace, but I just stayed tucked behind the wheels. After a few attacks, I took a few pulls at the front. The Anthem Sports Team had a few riders, so they were attacking on the back half of the course. One girl got away for about 10 minutes, but we kept her in sight and I made the final pull to pull her back in. Silke would attack I would block, and once the peleton caught her, I would attack. We went back and forth and I must have had a smile on my face because I was having fun! It felt so great to be apart of a team. After Silke had gotten away for a brief amount of time, we stretched out, decending down one of the rollers. As the next hill approached, I attacked, and I wouldn’t say it was with full force, but I turned around, saw a big gap and kept going. I looked behind and saw another rider bridging up to me. I pushed the pace, but let her catch up. “Do you think we can make it?” she asked through her heavy breathing. “Yes we can!!” I yelled back, “Now quick pulls!” We took turns, but I could sense her lack of confidence as she spent more and more time behind my wheel. I saw the group slowly easing up, but then on the hills, we’d ride further ahead. “Come-on, we can do it!” We stood up and gave 100% on the climbs. I saw a woman assembling a chase. They were closing in. We had been out for over 10 minutes. The group surrounded us and I tucked in and started to rest. No, more pulls, I decided. I had lit most of my matches. After another 15 minutes my lets began cramping, from my butt to my calf, it was as if my entire leg was falling asleep! I tried imagining my muscles relaxing, I eased my breathing and stood up to stretch my legs. “Relax,” I told myself. The cramps kept coming but I pushed them out of my mind, out of my legs. We came through the town of Ware and the pace picked up again as we neared the end. I move up, but still stayed behind a wheel. We turned to our final 3 mile climb and within moments, there was a crash, and my teammate Silke was down. I slammed on my brakes to avoid piling on top of the girls. “Silke, are you ok!” “I’m fine,” she managed through her frustration and pain. I wheeled around the mangled pile and chased back to the accelerating group of 19 women. It was the final climb. I was tired, but I knew “this is what it takes to win”, so I stayed on the wheels. I kept telling myself that it would be over soon, and every ounce of pain would be worth it’s weight in gold. The girls accelerated and I held on. It was only 300 meters to finish and the hill pitched up. Someone attacked around the group and all hell broke loose. I had nothing to keep up with the sprint. My head bowed out of shame, but then I looked up, stood up and pushed as hard as I could through the finish. I came in 11^{th overall and Silke was 20th. One of the girls, Anna, who’d won Battenkill and used to work for Landry’s spun around with me afterwards. She had come in 8th but cracked 150 meters before the finish. “I need to work on that sprint,” she said. “When you’re that close,” I said, “it’s all up here,” and I pointed to my protected noggin.}

Aaron finished his race, 46th out of 52 riders. I was so proud of him as he’d stayed with the group for 90 miles. He said their first 60 miles was in 2hrs 15minutes! “You’re going to get so fast!” I told him. Bob had nearly gone off the road during the first decent, but was rescued by his mountain biking days. He was a little disappointed but happy to have finished the race, unharmed.

We all piled in the SUV, drove to Mickey D’s to use the bathroom and ended up with vanilla milkshakes in hand. “This hit the spot,” we all said, and drove back home.

As I was spinning home Friday afternoon, I passed another rider on the road. He was sporting a bright yellow jacket, a yellow bracelet, and appeared to be riding a Trek bicycle. Someone who probably admired Lance Armstrong. As I went around him, I turned my head to yell, “Hi!” The wind was blowing in my ears and I couldn’t hear what he said, but I kept riding. I saw his shadow on my tail, as he had grabbed my wheel. We rode for another couple of miles and soon the street widened and I turned to chat before the upcoming intersection. “Where are you headed?” I asked. “Sharon,” he said. “I love your blog by the way!” he added in his British accent. My eyes lit up! “You read my blog?! Do I know you from the Landry’s group ride??!” I probed for some connection. “No. I just know a few of the riders who go.” We reached the intersection, parted ways, and I pedaled the rest of the way home, beaming from ear to ear. My first random contact with one of my blog fans! Hope you’re reading today.

Silke front, me center with the pink glasses.

Flying down the gravel hill!

For a little while, we rested in the field and the pack slowed. I swear we were taking a coffee break or something so I was a little annoyed. Silke and Catherine moved forward and kicked the pace up for the last 10 miles. I stayed at the front too, but I was definitely starting to fatigue. Earlier on a climb, Silke had said to me, “Melissa, conserve.” We went up and down a few steep rollers, past beautiful farms and then turned onto paved roads and then swooping down and back onto the final gravel climb. It was long, but it didn’t phase me as I pre-rode the course a few weeks back with Silke and Becca. What did get me was the intensity and adrenaline of the finish approaching, over the hill, and only a few miles away, in the center of Cambridge. Silke and another rider took off (I think it was Anna Barnsfield who won). A few girls chased and me and Catherine worked together. My legs had nothing and I could feel the onset of cramping in my thighs. She pulled away and I couldn’t hang on. I think more than physically, mentally I was drained. I saw the girls pull away and knew that my chance of making the podium just wasn’t there. But for once, as it was my first race on a team, in two years, seeing a teammate that I had worked with the entire race, have an opportunity to win, was a very rewarding feeling and I didn’t feel the disappointment that I would have felt if I were riding solo. So, to finish, I hung in there, and another rider caught up to me and helped me out. We caught Kasey Manderfield and worked together to finish the last couple of miles. I was 14th overall.

Silke shy of winning. Anna Barnsfield celebrates.

After I finished, I saw Silke and she seemed so disappointed as she was only millimeters from winning. So close, but yet that’s all it takes to make a difference between a winner and second place. Catherine had gotten 8th and Becca 20th. There’s this saying that putting just another degree or percentage of effort into the things you do in life can make so much of a difference. Just like how the difference between hot water and boiling water is only 1 degree. To an athlete, it is everything but it’s also a way to motivate us to do better every time we train, and every time we compete. It’s the factor that makes us stronger. It’s just that one degree that makes winners the winners.

So the season has finally begun!  With my new, shiny green “Blue” bike, and Battonkill next weekend, I am ready to tear some dirt up! My training is already more than a month ahead of last year, and I feel strong.  My head is focused.  I see in cycling news that Evelyn Stevens, my local competition from last year, is riding for Columbia!  Megan Gaunier, who I rode with in France two years ago this month, is on the start list for Flanders.  Just reading about them is inspiring…it really gives me hope that I’ll be on that list soon.  What a dream!

The last few weeks have been scattered with flooding rain storms. Streets near bridges were closed as waters had overflowed.  Even after the storms had passed and a few days of sun, I’d still get soaked on my training rides from all the overflow of water. I’d never seen anything like it before!  Luckily, last Sunday, it was dry, but still cold, and Aaron and I went up to Marblehead to do a crit.  They only had Men’s fields, so I did the Men’s 1,2,3 category.  My teammate Silke drove up from CT and rode too.  Aaron and I had shown up early, but somehow, ended up missing the start.  We’d gone off to warm up, and as I was about to head to the start, Aaron grabbed me, “Melissa, hurry, our numbers are on the wrong side!”  I frantically changed my number around…Aaron’s fingers were fumbling as he had so many pins to take out.  “Let’s just ride to the start and I’ll pin it  on you,” I said.  As we hurried across the waterway, I saw the field, take off in the distance.  “Oh no!!”  Aaron grabbed his number from my outstretched arms and I took off chasing.  He had stayed behind to put the number on.  I chased, feeling as if I was getting closer, but the short punchy hills distanced me more from the strong men’s field.  I was so angry and upset.  I cursed under my breath. Aaron caught up to me so I latched onto his wheel, but he was so quick on the hill, he too dropped me.  I just chased as hard as I could, but knew that I would never catch the group.  After 30 minutes, the official came by and pulled me out as the field was beginning to lap me. 

I found Aaron, and motioned for us to leave.  I was still angry.  He saw it in my face. We’d had a silly argument the night before, so I felt like the morning’s episode was a result of us losing focus.  “I’m so sorry Melissa.  I really fucked up.”  “It’s not your fault Aaron.  It’s just as much my fault too.”  We rode for a while around the streets and then decided to head back to Norwood.  My new frame had arrived and we still needed to build it.  “Let’s go get your bike built, how does that sound?”  “I think that sounds great!” And it was.  I was put to work cleaning my old cassettes and derailleur, and just the sight of fresh, clean and green painted carbon was all I needed to turn my day around.  As I scrubbed the grease from my cassettes, I thought how ironic it was that Aaron and I always rise and fall together.  Every race he won last summer, I won my race too.  We missed the start of our race that day, but we made it through.  At least it was out of our system for the year!  There’s always a race like that every now and then, so now all we have are great ones to come!

After the team’s ‘team camp’ plans fell through due to scheduling and finances, a few of my teammates, also living in New England, decided to organize our own mini-team camp.  Silke, Anna, and I met up on Saturday in Ware, MA at the start of a popular course around the Quabbin Reservoir. The air was much warmer than we anticipated, so the wind had some invitation as it regulated our body heat from over-dressing. We rode up to the start of the big climb and looked out over the valley and hills below.  It was so beautiful. But immediately we got to business and rode, single file along the course’s long stretch of rolling highway. 

Silke and Anna

The pulls were quick but so efficient that it was a breath of fresh air to finally be with other women who shared the same passion. It’s always a treat, especially when you’re used to being the only female in a group of guys. We took turns for several hours and finally, on hour 3, we turned onto  a quite side-road, spread out, and began sharing our life stories. Anna’s a PhD student in biology at Harvard but is incredibly competitive and loves to Nordic ski and bake.  Silke is from Germany and works as a chemist for Pfizer.  She too has many great stories to share.

After the ride, we drove to an Italian bar for a warm bite to eat, and then we hit the road with plans for the racing season, soon to begin!

Sunday was a whole new ball-park.  Landry’s in Boston was hosting an indoor-TT event (mostly for tri-athletes) and Aaron, me and the Landry’s crew decided to enter in the same time-slot so we could not only race one-another but have a reason for trash-talking!  Our heat consisted of 18 compu-trainers and the event took about 8 heats from the entire day. 

Aaron's revival of the "Mr. Goodbody" kit.

Aaron and I drove up to Boston, pouting the entire ride as it was the most beautiful day of the month, and we were somehow choosing to ride indoors!  Ironic, especially since we refuse to ride the trainer during the worst conditions!  When we arrived, we weighed in since the compu-trainer is set up for your weight. Immediately I changed and set up my bike to warm-up.  Aaron came walking into the warm-up garage and I heard guys laughing….he had on his Mario Cipollini muscle suit!  I was surprised and shook my head!  Aaron parked his bike next to mine and sat there whining about his stationary position.  I looked over and said, “Hey, if you don’t start warming up, Jeff over there is going to kick your ass!” Aaron grinned and just decided to go on strike!  I had no idea what his plans were.

It wasn’t too long before they shuttled us into the store and set-up the bikes.  Ahead of us were two large screens with a data sheet for each person in the heat: our position, speed, watts, and distance.  Above this data was a profile of the course with colored markers to depict the position of each rider on the course. The count-down began and when the start beeped, I stood up and took off on my stationary wheels!  For the first minute, I was in the lead, but after each minute ticked away, Aaron took-over and I fell back. He was unstoppable and soon the whole building was cheering for the guy in the ridiculous muscle suit!  I pushed hard but found it so hard to focus. The announcer was raving about the power behind the Cipollini suit!  Aaron wore it proud.  I pushed but the course was painful; several climbs with little descents.  I tried focusing on my speed, but had no bearings on where I was compared to the other women.  Finally, I heard my name! “Melissa Ross is looking strong…she’s going to finish as one of the top females.”  I felt the encouragement.  Meanwhile, Aaron was dumping more and more water on his head.

Boy do I look happy!

He broke away and finished 1st in our heat and 5th overall for the event!  Aaron was beaming, Cat 3 and out-rode a few Cat 1 & 2 riders.  His goal this year is to upgrade to a 2, so this was the encouragement he needed. “I think this is going to be my best season yet, Melissa!” I on the other hand wasn’t as excited about my time or average watts, but I did win my heat for the females. We stayed, cheering our friends in the following heats, Aaron celebrated with beer, and I sipped on my recovery bottle, my stomach twisting in knots.  We arrived dreaming about riding outside, and left with sunshiny faces and dreaming about the upcoming season!

A. Ross & M.Ross side-by-side

Hour 3 of a little snowfall.

Finally…February is almost gone. Gone is the chocolate (please don’t tempt me!) and soon beginning the training races, stripping off the tights, on with the knickers, and at last, the thrill of racing with the cool air kissing your skin.  I can’t complain about February’s romance; the staycation, sushi, and hours upon hours of riding together, Aaron and I, in the fridgid air. Aaron actually bought me a pretty necklace for Valentine’s day…I guess that’s a true measure of how brutally cold riding can be utterly romantic! Who would have known?!

Aaron polishing my bike.

I reminisce as wind pummels the windows and snow falls heavy to the street below. The other day, our favorite bike picture blew off the shelf and I had to run to close the window in the bedroom. Today it is snowing. The last few weekends, I pushed the big ring for hours on end. My legs ached, my stomach tightened out of hunger. Yet it felt so good to suffer in the dense air. Every morning I awake to birds chirping like mad. “It feels like spring,” I say to Aaron. “the beginning of a new season.” The scent of fresh dew and morning birds reminds me of high school track and of the spring I spent in southern France, racing with the National team. Do I ever long to return to France and finish what I started. The Olympics have begun. It was Bonnie Blair back in 1994 or ’95 who got me started. I sat watching the TV, wide eyed and only 8 years old… “I want to be like her,” I announced to my parents, and that’s where the passion started…it was all about doing the unthinkable, and being a champion. It’s that young 8-year old girl that’s still whispering in my head, “Finish what you start,” she says, “Don’t give up your dream.”

Aaron and I have what most people would consider a bizarre idea of a romance vacation. Our version consists of eating, drinking, biking for hours outside in the f’ing cold, and watching lots of movies. Aaron took the week off to use up some vacation time, so I took a 3 day weekend and we stayed in our lovely apartment in Norwood. I’ll just say again that the thermometer was below what most people see as welcoming to leave the realm of a heated enviroment…and below what would least be considered romantic!! 

Aaron eating our ginormous Sushi Boat

Thursday night we decided to splurge on sushi. We drove into Canton, bottle of wine in hand, and downed a ‘Sushi Boat B’ in 15 minutes. It was sooo good and the specials on the board above my head still looked inviting, so after our boat, we ordered the ‘Seven Sisters’ and suddenly my appetite emerged once more! We went home, watched movies and the next day were charged up for our 3 hour ride. We had no idea that it was going to be so frigid cold. It had started snowingthe night before, but we figured it’d dry up and we’d be fine. Nothing beats training during a Wyoming winter…so we can handle anything.

Weather.com read ’14 degrees F, high of 16′. Damn. It’s going to be so cold. “We can do it Aaron!” I spent the next 20 minutes applying my 10 layers, embrication to the feet (my secret for keeping my toes warm) and soon we were out on our blustery ride. 30 mile and hour winds….god did it feel so much like Wyoming! I stayed on Aaron’s wheel and we had to avoid ice patches here and there. (I might note that we’re on road bikes.) Because the windchill was horrific, we made a 10 mile loop out past Sharon lake, and did our tempo workout; hidden from the wind and safe from the ice. The two hour mark was brutal. My body was thrashed from pushinghard through the cold, dense air, but I knew I could make 3 hours. “One more lap Aaron” My body was dehydrated from only ½ a bottle of water (the rest froze) and a Snickers. We made it home and spent the rest of the day lounging, eating, watching movies and drinking wine.

Again on Saturday, the air had a strong bite!! It was in the single digits but the wind wasn’t blowing as hard. ”We can do it!” I was supposed to do 4 hours, but we decided 3 was a good goal, considering the conditions. It was soo cold, but I added knee warmers under my tights, still embrication on the toes and a scarf. I was set! Aaron motored all the way to Taunton and I hung on his wheel. The air was fine, but then the overcast sky dropped the temperature, and soon we started feeling chills, half way into the ride. Our friend Rob called us, “Hey Rob!” Aaron said, “You out riding?! Me too! You’re one of 3 people!” We started headingback. I had drank as much of my water as possible the first hour so I was more hydrated and sane the second half of the ride. Aaron was tiring out so he rode my wheel the way back.

Sunday was better as the temperature rose to 22 degrees and it was sunshine all day.  Aaron took me on some new, scenic roads so it felt more like a ‘Sunday-stroll’.

So there you are…the perfect recipe for a romantic stacation.

As the gray, New England fall transformed into a winter wonderland, the hours on the bike diminished to a life at the gym.  An unfamiliar zone for an outdoor cyclist, I soon found the change rewarding and inviting as it was the signal for the beginning of another road season.  For people who are unfamiliar with road training, weights are used during the off-season as a way to build strength and power on the bike.  Weight training is very structured and is completely focused on the leg muscles and core strength.  Time and time again, I am asked how much I’m benching….IT’S IRRELEVANT TO GETTING FASTER ON THE BIKE!!  I shake my head. 

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up and my lower neck felt as if I’d slept funny on it.  It was the holiday and Aaron’s parent’s were visiting so we were in the city (Boston).  I had a few days off the weights so I shook it off.  That Sunday, I went to the gym and did my routine, except I was exceptionally sore and slightly pained from the squats.  I cut them short.  My shoulder hurt.  The week went by and I just did my routine and completely cut out the squats…finally Thursday came and I addressed this to my coach, Frank.  He was beside himself!!  “Melissa!!  I don’t know how you can trust yourself to take care of yourself.  You should have told me immediately so I could have adjusted your training!!”  He was so upset, but someone needed to tell me.  “Imagine you had a Mercedes.  You would put the best fuel in, clean it, and never eat in the car.  If the ‘check engine’ light came on, you would IMMEDIATELY take it to the shop, wouldn’t you.”  I nodded my head over the phone. “Just pretend you are a Mercedes and you’ll be fine.”

The ‘Mercedes’ theory immediately became a joke between Aaron and I.  Every Mercedes he’d see on a movie, he would point and remind me…”Melissa, what would you do?”  In the mean time, Frank grounded me from the bike until I got examined by a physician.  It would be another week until I’d find out that it was a strained neck.  Aaron was antsy for me to ride again, so he emailed Frank:

Frank,

hope everything is going well in Colorado! I have three questions
composed in an “A”, “B”, and “C” format.

The first “A” questions is: can Melissa ride a bike yet? She is
driving me “crazy”, and biking will help mello that out.

“B” question: Mercedes? Melissa is not that high maintenance, but when
she ‘breaks” everything is expensive, so I propose to call her an
Aston Martin. There are not really any Aston Martin dealerships
around, which makes fixing them very hard plus they are way more
expensive to fix and run.

“C” question: I have been riding zone 2 for a little while (this week
12 hrs,next week 14-15, week after that 16hrs) how much zone 3 should
I do, and/or, I dont know what I am doing but it seems to work? Will
bourbon help? What is the alchol per mile ratio? I just became a cat 3
last year, now I am almost a “2″ so does my gut instinct work for “my”
training plan?

Thanks,
Aaron

Frank’s reply:

Hey Aaron -
 Good to hear from you.  Thanks for making me laugh, Hahahaa.  Let me
answer those in reverse order:

C) 12 > 14-15 > 16 hrs sounds awesome.  I’d add a easy 6-8 hrs regeneration
week after than 16 hr one. Then begin the tempo work. Tempo in February and
Sweet Spot in March.  Drop the hammer in April or mid-March.  Without an on
the bike BAC “bicycle alcohol content” it’s hard for me to estimate.
However if what you are doing is working, by all means keep it up. Early
European bike racers used to drink whiskey 10k before the spring finish.
They thought it was one of the original performance enhancers. Turns out all
it did was lower their inhibitions so that they sprinted (and crashed) more
crazy.

B) I agree.  I kinda made that up on the fly and afterwards I offered to
make her a Ferrari, but she declined.  Let’s go with an Aston Martin – those
are sweet!

C) Too funny.  I am keen to hear what her Dr. says today and if she gets the
green light A OK bill of health “back is alright” then I’ll load up her
hours and she’ll be outta your hair.  A lot.  Your 12 > 14-15 > 16 hrs
sounds awesome.

Have a good one and let me know if you have any other training and/or car
questions!
-Frank

So, needless to say, after all is said and done, I’ve become an Aston Martin.  WHOO HOO!! Would I have figured this out if I hadn’t hurt myself lifting…not so sure.  But now that I can relate to a James Bond machine, I will know how to act in adverse situations.  The lesson here is: A)  When the ’check engine’ light comes on….take the damn thing to the shop!!

Aston Martin

As I stood there watching the dirty riders slug through the muck, the freezing rain pummeled my bright yellow jacket.  My feet were soaked.  Rider after rider pulled off the course.  It was hypothermic conditions and most felt it wasn’t worth it.  “Aaron!” I yelled, “If you finish, you might make top ten!”  Half the field was missing as they were already in their heated vehicles.  “Melissa,” someone said, “Did you race today?”  “Nope,” I replied.  “Why, you’re a smart one!”  Though the weather was fierce, somewhere deep down, I was envious of the riders, that they had the opportunity to fight that battle. I on the other hand, had fought a big battle that week, as I had spent several days in the hospital with a very serious infection on my right leg.

Aaron after the Wrenthem race.

The infection started the previous weekend, the Providence Cyclocross Festival, October 10th-11th which featured some of the very top cyclocross and mountain bikers in the country and even the world!  The race was only a 45 minute drive from my apartment, so Saturday, I drove up, ready for action.  The course was made almost for a BMX’er which made the technicality very inviting!  I was tired, but excited for the quality of riders and course I was going to compete on. That week, I had a little sore on my leg that I thought was an ingrown hair…so I had been picking at it all week.  It was slowly growing bigger and bigger. As I sat at the start line, the sore on my leg lay exposed.

The race was very fast and I didn’t finish where I wanted, but still knew I could improve the next day.  I went home that night, and this is where the ‘real’ story begins.  My sore had become very inflamed.  I knew it was becoming infected so I boiled some water, got some salts and started soaking it with a hot rag.  “Aaron,” I asked, “could you come in and help me poke this thing with a pin…it really needs to drain.”  It was sooo painful and we didn’t get much drainage, so  I retrieved to bed for a sleepless night.

The next morning I awoke feeling more miserable than ever.  My leg was on fire and my glands in my thigh were so swollen it felt like they would burst. I tried to walk to the bathroom but could barely put any weight on my right leg.  “I think it’s infected.”  So, being that it was a Sunday, I called our amazing friends, Tom and Barbara.  Tom’s a family doctor, and Barbara is an Orthopaedic surgeon.  They called in a prescription for and antibiotic and I took it immediately. 

My leg before heading to the ER on Monday, October 12th.

Aaron and I drove up to Providence for the festival.  Aaron’s race was before mine.  I was unsure if I’d race, being that I couldn’t walk very well, but I brought my things just in case.  I rode around the course; every bump made my leg throb with pain.  “Not sure if I’ll race, Aaron,” I said.  “Do what you think is best.”  So I rode around more, and somehow ended up at the start line….”Damn it…I’m racing!”  Needless to say, the race was not so good.  I probably finished in last place.  My handling sucked and I got so banged up.  I didn’t feel well.

The next day, I rode my bike to work.  My leg was still in pain. “Melissa, what’s that on your leg?!”  “Oh,” I said, “Just an ingrown hair I think.”  Their eyebrows turned, “That doesn’t look like the work of one hair follicle…you should go to the ER!”  So, after work, I took a picture of my leg and emailed it to my family…I couldn’t decide if it was worth going to the ER over.  But immediately when I pressed the ‘send’ button, Aaron’s Mom called, “Melissa, get your butt up to the ER NOW!!”  So, I grabbed some reading materials, a few snacks, and hopped on my bicycle and rode up to the hospital, just a few blocks up the road.

In my delusional mind, I thought when I got there that they’d just use a special cleaner, clean the wound, and send me home…but the doctor said, “Here’s my recommendations…we are going to admit you for the night so we can pump you full of antibiotics.  You’re oral antibiotics aren’t working, so you need an IV.”  I was stunned and in denial, “Can’t you just clean it and send me home…isn’t there an outpatient option?!”  “Nope, I can’t force you to stay, but this is my recommendation.  You’ve never been hospitalized before, have you?!”  I was terrified.  I didn’t want to miss work!  I text-ed my boss, “I won’t be into work tomorrow.  I’m getting admitted to the hospital.  Sorry for the drama.”  I couldn’t believe it.

Wednesday morning.

Thursday

Finally, Thursday came and the infection specialist had promised he’d start his rounds on my floor.  He walked in the room, took a look and explained the process my leg was going through.  He said, “You can go home.”  I was stunned as my Primary physician had told me that morning I’d be up there a few more days, “Is this a joke?!”  “What did I just say?!!  You can do home!” he said.  Thank God!!  I was sick of that place and ready to sleep in my own bed.  The nurse came, pulled out my IV, I packed my bags, called Aaron, and waited impatiently for him to pick me up. 

Thursday afternoon (at home!)

Saturday

So,where am I now?  I started riding last Monday, very gradually.  My energy had been diminished from fighting this infection and  drained from a full day of work.  Now, I am getting back to full force…still no running, but I plan on racing this weekend in Canton.

Sunday October 25th & off the antibiotics.