Pedalling furiously, going nowhere...

I’ve spent the last week or so relearning some hard lessons.  So used to push through discomfort I’m not great at recognising the difference between that and pain caused by injuring an already injured body part.  Luckily Laura and Dolph at QSMC straightened me out (both physically and psychologically) and I’ve now progressed to sweat-pool inducing windtrainer sessions in my lounge room.

Fun times at the physio!

Like any red-blooded mountain biker of sound mind I LOATHE the stationary bike session.  It is amazing what I can do when there is no alternative though.  Being rather fortunate to have broken myself the year SBS decides to screen every stage of the Giro I’ve at least been distracted by the rolling hills of Italy, skinny men breaking collarbones and the mysterious urge to buy a Skoda.  I also threw in ’24 Solo’ the epic battle for the World Championship between Gordo and Eatough.  That never gets old but I am scratching for another MTB DVD so suggestions are welcome.

Yes, you read that correctly.

I’m not going to pretend that being injured is a good thing, but it has revealed a few things personally.  The fact that I can spend 4 hours pedalling circles in my lounge room and another hour every day getting intimate with tennis balls and ITB rollers means I have a bit of mental toughness and also that I’m clearly still in love with the sport.  Or I’m a sick masochist.

Just want to ride.

Road to recovery

One and a half weeks post-crash and I still have 4.5 weeks left in a wrist cast with a broken scaphoid.  Things have gone as well as they possibly could though.  The break was a ‘good’ one in a part of the bone which is 99% likely to heal without complications.  I’ve had excellent treatment from the precautionary ED doctors at Cairns Base Hospital, to my physio, Laura, getting me a pronto referral for an MRI.  My sports doctor got me a same-day appointment to have a specially moulded splint put on so I could continue training.  I’m really lucky to have a great professional team.

 My carbon-look cast - cool!

People have been saying I should get straight on the windtrainer to maintain my cycling fitness, but I have resisted for a couple of reasons.  One, I was due to have a couple of weeks off the bike after World Cup and being injured should not change this plan.  Two, I don’t want to pretend it’s ‘business as usual’.  I have suffered a significant injury and am not going to just train like I’ve only skinned my knee.  I also have a large hematoma on my hip which I hope will get small enough to button up my jeans someday.  My lower back is now the main concern with me groaning like a 70 year old every time I have to bend forward.

Looks like an alien.  Actually is a hematoma.  

My immediate concern was that I wouldn’t be able to work in my sports massage business but after a couple of practice clients it seems I can work around it.  This is one of the benefits of being known more for knuckles and elbows than soft, soothing hand strokes.  Yes, it hurts my body to work but it is helping me mentally to be around my clients who are so amazing and motivating.  I treat a guy who has fallen in love with marathon running in his 60s and last week massaged a woman with 4 kids who has decided she will swim the English Channel as her 40^th birthday present.  I mean, wow!  It makes me realise that having 6 weeks off is not the end of the world and there is plenty of time to get back to training for something insane.

The problem with pushing through pain at work and being optimistic is that it’s bloody exhausting.  This has resulted in a few ‘losing it’ moments and a short fuse with family and friends – sorry!  As someone who is fiercely independent it’s frustrating to struggle with simple things like tying up my hair and getting dressed.  So peeved I couldn’t get my cast through a single jacket I owned I may have shed a few tears (straw that broke the camel’s back) then vented by take scissors to the sleeve of one of my favourite coats.  On the upside it now fits over my cast.

Thanks to everyone for your messages of support.  I hope to see you on the trails soon!

Cairns World Cup (almost)

The thing most people say on first visiting a World Cup track is “Wow – it doesn’t look that big on TV”. Until you’re actually looking down the rock chute or drop off, you don’t have an accurate idea of just how gnarly it is and how skilled the riders are who make it look easy.  What I love about racing on World Cup courses is being pushed out of my comfort zone.  That little bit of sick I get at the back of my mouth before trying to ride something I’m not sure I will survive – I get off on that.  Which is a little weird.  But that’s what separates people who like to ride on the dirt, from actual mountain bikers.  The fact that I’m typing this one-handed (slowly) demonstrates that there is sometimes a price to pay for the rush of challenge and self-discovery.

I enjoy the progression I get as a rider from the first day I see a course (“How the hell am I going to get around this nightmare?”) through a few days of practice leading up to the race (“Yeah! I can’t believe I just rode that!”).  Discovering the track with other riders a sense of camaraderie builds as we swap line choices and help each other conquer technical sections.  After two days of practice in the pouring rain I was semi-comfortable and knew I could get around the course riding the B-lines (less technical lines but longer), but I don’t come to World Cups to ride the B-lines.  Doing course recon with Holly and Dave Harris I'd worked my way up to riding the ‘Croc Slide’, an intimidating rock face constituting the A-line, shaving a couple of seconds off a lap.  Entering that dangerous zone where my confidence was slightly exceeding my ability I decided to tackle the rock drop-in on the infamous Jacob’s Ladder section.

It’s hard to say exactly what I did wrong but the net result was me flying through the air and landing on some very unforgiving rocks.  My left hip and hand took the full impact, saving my face and my bike, which I think was a good choice.  Blinding pain overtook me in the way that I didn't cry, but could only sit very still as the blood drained away from my face and my vision started to get dark.  Dave held my feet up as I went into shock and the paramedics made their way up to me.  Laughter then ensued as I recognised one of them as a school friend from 20 years ago – the quirks of racing where I grew up.  More laughter was had once I was sucking on the ‘green whistle’ of pain relief and realised that while my hip was very swollen, it wasn't broken and I'd be walking out.

Back at the event centre First Aid staff were more concerned about my hand which I had assumed was just a little bruised.  Five hours in hospital later I was having the following conversation:

Doctor:  We can’t see a fracture but scaphoid fractures don’t show up on x-ray for a week so we need to put a cast on your arm until then.

Me: Well let’s say we don’t put a cast on (still thinking I would be racing) – what would happen?

Doctor: Your bone could die.

Me: So how important is this bone anyway?  Do I really need it?

Doctor:  If you intend to do anything with your hand in future, you will need your scaphoid. (Thinking: idiot!)

So I let her put a plaster cast on to humour her, thinking I’d take it off the next day when I felt better.  After a night feeling like someone was hammering a nails into my wrist I suspected the lady who went to medical school possibly knew better than I did.

I’d had a lot of fun riding the course, extended my skills, proved I wasn’t a pussy by riding the A-line so initially I was only a little disappointed.  Watching the racing on Redbull TV though that gutted feeling set in though.  I would have loved to be out there and think I’d have done a decent job.  Some people have said I must think all my training was for nothing.  But the truth is I would have done the training anyway – I’ve always loved the training but have learned to love the racing.  Missing out on the opportunity to race in my former home-town was a blow, but I guess that gives me the perfect excuse to extend my World Cup racing until the next round here.  I missed one race and there will be other races.  Time to look towards www.singletrack6.com in July!

National XCM Titles - Mt Joyce

My training diary is very useful when analysing what went so wrong.  I’ve been battling the virus I had before XCO Nationals for 5 weeks.  Waking up every day with a headache which gets worse over the course of the day to a point when it hurts to look at my laptop screen or have the lights on in the house.  I’ve felt okay one day and trained then been completely wiped out the next day and wracked by muscle and joint pain.

Now you might think that feeling like that would be a no-brainer to stop training and racing.  That’s what the doctor thought when I fronted for a blood test last Monday but he clearly underestimated the stupidity he was dealing with, which is concerning as he usually works with professional footballers.  When the test results did not come back before the weekend I saw this is as fate telling me it was okay to race, or at least that I could plead ignorance of a confirmed medical reason to preclude me from racing.  It would be a tough course, my prep had been rubbish, but I’ve faced bigger challenges before and it’s turned out okay.

It wasn’t a good sign when my legs were sore and cramping before the race even started.  The pain in my chest I put down to scoffing my breakfast too quickly.  Head pounding as usual but at 8am it was already a baking hot day.  Surprisingly the first lap felt relatively comfortable.  Sitting behind other riders on the singletrack climb meant being forced into the group selected pace.  The second fireroad climb was brutal, loose and kept kicking up until it was faster for me to walk than ride.  I was gapped by the front three riders on the climb but caught up quickly on the technical descent and led out for the second lap.  I knew my legs were lacking power but if I could get into the singletrack first I could create time gaps on the descents to hopefully hold of the stronger climbers. 

By this time my head was pounding despite drinking to plan and was making my handling sketchy.  Calf cramps were well advanced but I was trying to adjust my pedalling to deal with them.  Although the day was clearly hot I kept feeling waves of chills but it was when the chest pain set in that I became a little concerned.  I’ve lectured my coaching clients on the dangers of damage to the heart when racing with a virus (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myocarditis) and I began to worry about what I might have done to myself.  I have history in this area and once trained feeling ‘off’ and ended up in hospital 12 hours later with liver and kidney shut down.  Apparently I am not the best judge of my body’s limits. 

Dropping back on the second climb again but confident I could catch back up on the descent I was brought to a halt by escalating chest pain, stabbing pain in my head affecting my vision and the desire to eject my last gel from my stomach.  In the middle of the forest, alone, not knowing if I was about to collapse I decided the race was over and it would be best to find the quickest way back.  Soft pedalling along the trail and stopping to lean against trees I met up with another rider who was also pulling out.  She stayed with me until I felt able to keep creeping along the trail and we continued a relatively enjoyable trail ride realising this racing thing might really be ruining a nice day.

Meeting up with the ambulance in the main clearing I was told in no uncertain terms to get in the van where they hooked me up to a bunch of leads and took some heart readings.  Nothing too unusual other than, unsurprisingly, I have a thick, muscular heart.  The tightness and pain kept coming in waves and was more likely all of my intercostal muscles cramping and constricting my chest.  A wave of nausea hit but I realised I was just car sick from being in the back of a four-wheel-driving van.

I can’t say I’m too disappointed as Mt Joyce was a race I entered at the last minute without too much expectation.  The concern lies in wondering where to go from here.  Having finally made my decision to do Cairns I am hardly in World Cup condition and have no idea how long it will take to kick this virus.  One thing is that I refuse to do is keep flogging a crumbling immune system leaving me unable to ride, and taking away from quality time with my family and friends.  Health has to come first – always.

Thanks and apologies to my sponsors that I couldn’t get the job done this time: Giant, Ride Mechanic, Shotz, For the Riders, Sram, KWT Maxxis.

Photo credit: Paul Fletcher

Ambivalence

Should I go?  Or rather, do I want to go?  I’ve been asking myself that question for a couple of long unmotivated weeks now.  For months I’ve had my plan all worked out: local racing, National XC champs and then Cairns World Cup.  The reason for doing Cairns was that it would most likely be my last opportunity to do a World Cup, and having it in the city I was born and grew up in would be a nice way to go out.

I remember my first overseas World Cups where there would be a bunch of us just hoping to not get lapped out. (NB. If you are 80% slower than the lead riders first lap you are pulled out before the start of your next lap).  My last two races in Houffalize and Pietermaritzburg I managed to avoid the 80% rule but I quick check of my training diary reveals I was doing about twice as many hours on the bike than I do now.  In fact at my fittest I would average 20 hours per week leaving not much time or energy for anything else.  That doesn’t include bike maintenance, gym work, stretching and increased requirement for naps.

Right now I have a nice balance where I’m working full-time, feel like I’m being a reasonable parent to a daughter who now has a demanding schedule of her own and even get out for the occasional social event.  So if I’m not going to throw all that out, where does that leave me for Cairns?  I’d like to say my family would get the opportunity to watch me race but it’s unlikely they will come if it involves walking very far or up an incline.  I’ve established that they really don’t ‘get it’ so who am I racing for?  Travel for XC racing doesn’t involve a lot of sight-seeing.  You just see about 4km of trail repeatedly for 4 days, memorising every rock, tree root and corner, noting the gear required for certain climbs and places to drink.  Compare that to a marathon where I can turn up the day before, race then enjoy the area for a few days before returning to the real world. 

While wearing my PCS Coaching hat I dole out a lot of advice to my clients that I’m not sure I’d heed as an athlete.  It’s created quite a self-awareness that I tap into more often as I question why I put myself through certain things.  Most of my clients are not out to win prize money or stand on a podium.  They just want to be better than they are.  One of my favourite mantras is “he who stops being better, stops being good” (OMG did I really just quote Oliver Cromwell?). I’m very aware that a lot of them would love to ‘suck’ as much as I do on a bad day.  It makes me think that I should finish what I started (as I told a rider last week), appreciate what my body can still do with the time I can devote to it and, basically, HTFU.

See you in Cairns.

Australian XC Titles - Bright

Missing the podium by 5 seconds leads to many moments of reflection as to where I could have found them over the course of a one hour and 47 minute race.  I liken it to my running days where comrades would miss the hallowed sub-three hour marathon by mere moments.  The realisation sinking in that they would have to put themselves through another ordeal attempting to achieve their goal.  Admittedly I swore that was my last XC National race several times during the endless climbs of Bright but I’ve said that in every XC, marathon and stage race where I’ve pushed myself to the absolute limit.  That’s what you say to yourself to justify the searing pain in your legs and lungs.  That’s the deal you make with your body to push a few more watts out: “Just this last time, I promise, and I’ll never ask you to do it again.  Okay?”  I lie to my body often.

Photo credit: Pete Winfield

Last race or not, it was a cracker.  Yes the medals went to the top three but the real tussle was for fourth spot apparently, between Rowena Fry, Tori Thomas and me, with not even a plastic medal as recompense.  It was great fun though, actually racing, attacking, dying and then attacking again.  Sometimes riders end up quite alone in a MTB time-trial situation so it was amazing to have a carrot to chase and someone snapping at my heels the whole race.  The ability to flat-stick it on the short fire road climbs while disregarding the consequences once at the top, was what would win the day.  Not the most open of courses the Bright parcours demanded tactical nous and maximum wattage in short bursts.

View from top of the Downhill course

While I missed the podium by seconds the real race for three Commonwealth Games spots was happening a few minutes up the road so I won’t lose much sleep over it.  I think it demonstrates the effect of professionalism of the sport where the top men and women are now able to make a living racing their bikes.  They’re not buying yachts for sure, but they are able to devote their lives to training and recovering which is a great sign for the sport in Australia.  Surely an Aussie World or Olympic Champion is not too far away.

It definitely will not be my last time in Bright.  What a pretty town with quality restaurants and coffee all within walking distance of accommodation.  The mountain or road biking in the area has been a popular choice with professional riders for some time and I think it’s time I booked a training camp.  Who’s keen??

A random clip of Trials...because it's cool

Thanks so much to Giant Bikes for the 27.5 Obsess.  It was super agile around the many twisty corners.  Ride Mechanic had my ride running clean and quiet as usual.  Legs were fuelled and hydrated by Shotz Nutrition. A few nervous moments at the down-hill tarmac start but the 30 tooth XX1 was perfect for the course - cheers Sram Aus. Maxxis Ardent Race and Ikons gripped like champions - cheers KWT.  And of course For The Riders, the most awesome shop ever and super-mechanic Shaun Hughes (okay I share him with Jarrod Graves, but that's kinda cool) who was on hand to do some fine-tuning.

Long time no blog

 To be honest I’ve been a bit bored riding about my own adventures when so many of my PCS Coaching clients are having their own.  Adventure by proxy?  It’s much cheaper and easier on my legs.

I’ve often been told if I could focus on just one thing I’d be dangerous.  Well that’s in no danger of happening now I’ve taken on the role of MTBA Vice President in addition to my usual mum/massage therapist/coach/writer jobs.  It’s been challenging and interesting so far and enabled me to see some behind-the-scenes action.  Being part of improving the management of MTB will be something to look back on with pride though I think.

After racing the first National Series round in Adelaide I knew what I needed to do.  Get faster – definitely get faster.  Balancing training, working and family life with jet-setting to Victoria every second week for the remaining rounds was unlikely to happen so I’ve staying in Brisbane while the National series was run and won. 

Luckily, south-east Queensland has a booming club scene and there has been dirt criteriums and XCO racing every weekend for the last six.  It has been amazing turning up to see 200 local riders at an interclub.  Who says XCO is dead??  The secret has been to make the racing fun, cheap ($10 for MTBA members) and easy with early starts and self-seeding (grades A to D).  Racing against the guys in A and B grade has been fun and I’ve had some epic tussles with Masters hitter, Kevin Jones.  It’s still disappointing to not have more women backing themselves and racing A grade.

The exciting part of the last few months has been the continuing support of Liv/giant who have offered me the chance to be an ambassador for another year.  I’m staying away from road racing this year as a semi-protest against Cycling Australia’s shabby treatment of MTBA events but also due to one too many broken collarbone photos on Facebook.  Who knew there were so many sheep stations to race for at $10 crits?  It’s also an excuse to play with two amazing bikes this year: the Giant Obsess hard-tail and the Lust dual suspension.  The Obsess has already acquitted itself admirably in its first XC race and I look forward to pinning the Lust in Canada for the Singletrack 6 (the rebranded Trans-Rockies).  I might even have a crack at this Gravity Enduro deal everyone keeps banging on about.

A new sponsor for 2014 is KWT Maxxis and the new rigs have already been shod in Ikon and Ardent Race goodness.  Showing their grip and durability at the Adare XC where there were many flats, I’m confident of a great season ahead with Maxxis.  I’m grateful for another year of support from Owen at Ride Mechanic who keeps me in the most amazing chamois cream (I will spare you all the details but it literally saves my ass), bike lube and cleaning products.  Here’s a secret, or not – I’m a slacker when it comes to cleaning my bike.  You guys who spend hours polishing your derailleurs – what the hell?  Who has time for that?  RM Bike Juice, Zalish, Avaqua and Bike Milk is a 10 minute job to get from muddy mess to sparkling machine.  This could be THE product for busy mums who ride!

I’ve been using Shotz nutrition products for 5 years now and am chuffed to be working with them again this year.  I recommend their products to all my coaching clients and am super excited to get new flavours.  Just one message to the product managers – don’t ever change the Protein bars.  EVER.

So here I am in Bright after some epic travelling.  A few laps of the course and it’s not what people would call ‘technical’ but with some tight sections in the pine forest and corners which kick around just a bit more than you expect them to it will challenge the riders at speed.  It’s just a really nice ride if you aren’t racing and it might be fun to stay in the area and explore some more trails.  I will withhold judgement of the entire town until tomorrow morning’s coffee foray.  How is my form? After a short stomach bug last week I’ve recovered well and it might actually work in my favour being forced to take an extra couple of days off the bike.  I will just sit back now and let the taper weave its magic.