Walburg Road Race

This road race was my first cycling race in three years and my first non-collegiate race. I was definitely nervous at the starting line since I did not know what to expect and I also had higher expectations for myself because I know I am a stronger cyclist than I was three years ago.

The farewell sunrise Houston gave me as I headed to Walburg to race. With something this beautiful, it has to be a good day. 

I met up with Pamela before the race to say hello and to warm up. Having a friendly face at a race and someone to work with as a teammate is something new for me but also a huge welcome! :) As we talked strategies, I started to gain confidence but as I pedaled up hills and against the wind, my confidence dropped. Despite feeling strong and having a breakthrough training week, my legs were really feeling the 300 miles I put on it the last 10 days. Mind over matter, I told myself. Recovery week starts after the race on Sunday, so give it everything. 

And I did. I couldn't have given any more than I did in those 85 minutes.

The race started with a neutral roll of 1-2 miles and I sat in the back as 1) I wasn't sure how the others girls ride and wanted to stay out of trouble and 2) I wasn't confident or aggressive enough to sit in the front. Mistake number one. I ended up in a really bad position off the back after the first climb and got stuck behind riders on the descend. I had to ride my brakes and could not pass anyone without crossing the yellow line or getting pushed off-road. So I waited. Once I got up the next climb and caught a glimpse of the front, my spirit dropped. The group had completely splintered and the lead pack and Pamela were a good 200-250m ahead. 

I panicked. Then swallowed my nerves and put the pedal to the medal. I was dead last at the time but I knew I didn't belong there, and that fueled my mad push. I caught one girl after the other. I was hitting the slight inclines at 27mph and bombing the downhills like a madman on a mission. I could see Pamela's orange jersey way ahead and that was all I targeted. Nothing else mattered. As I passed groups of girls, I yelled at them to hop on. Grab my wheel. We can do this. We got this. Let's go. 

I felt like I was leading a revolution, gathering troops to rebel. I was pushing the pace so hard that I eventually dropped nearly everyone except for three other girls. I pulled for a good 3 miles as we all set our sites on the front pack of 5. I finally needed a break and drafted off the group to recover. We hit a nasty crosswind in the back section of the course and we maneuvered and rotated well in our slanted formation. Every time I pulled, we gained more ground on the front pack, but when I peeled off to recover, the distance grew again. So when it became my turn to be in the lead, I took harder and longer pulls. I knew this wasn't ideal as I had already burnt so many matches to catch up, and these hard efforts will drain me from a strong sprint finish if needed, but I knew if we didn't catch them, then the race is kind of over for us. So why not at least try?

And try we did. A marshall reported to us at mile 17 that we were 2 minutes behind. We pushed harder and soon cut it to 1 minute in the hilly headwind section. Finally, our chase pack decided to make one more huge move at the next climb to catch the leaders. I surged, pulling everyone with me. Then I died halfway up the climb. Ouch. Poor legs. Two riders dropped me and soon caught Pamela. Jealous! I wanted to ride with Pamela! I recovered after a minute of easy spinning and resurged. I dropped the last girl of our chase pack and was solo in my pursuit. 

This is where all my solo wind training and interval sessions on the trainer came in handy. And in my head, I was imagining what the chase pack car behind me must be thinking or commentating. 

- Oh no, there goes 884. She has dropped off the chase pack as they tried to make a move. She has definitely worked hard there today, leading the charge. I don't blame her for running out of gas. 

- Wait. It's not over yet. There she goes, sprinting up the incline. She's halved the gap. She's going to catch them. Ooh, so close. She's wavering in the wind. Man, she's tired.

- Look, try number two. Will this girl ever give up? She's bombing it down the hill, gaining momentum. Go 884, go! Aw, so close! It's tough to make moves this late in the race, especially a solo effort.

(At this point, I was getting ready to concede and just ride solo the rest of the way to the finish. But something inside of me didn't want to give up just yet. Try just one more time. It'll be like a one minute sprint  interval, that's all. Hurt for one minute then recover.)

- What do we have here? 884 is still not giving up! She's picking up speed. Oh my gosh, she's going to catch them. You got it! Almost there, keep going! Yes!! She caught on!

I'm framing these number bibs ;)

I was so elated but also dying at the same time. I couldn't say hello to Pamela as I could barely breathe. I sounded like a wheezing cat, hacking up a hairball. I sucked their wheel as hard as I was sucking wind. I wasn't going to let them leave me this time or ever again. And it was perfect timing when I caught them! Pamela ran out of water so I was able to share a bottle with her :) my good deed of the day!

I hung on and pushed the pace a few times to try to wear the other two girls out. Then on the final climb, I was neck and neck with Corey and upon seeing her stand up to climb and surge for the win in our group, I stood up too. And quickly had to sit back down as my legs had absolutely nothing left. Melissa passed me up just at the crest of the climb and I just used gravity the rest of the way to move me across the finish line. 

Ouch. But unbelievably proud of myself. It didn't matter what place I got because I felt like a freaking winner! :) I pushed myself beyond what I thought my body was possible of achieving and left everything on the course. That's what I call a perfect race. And I did it all with a smile (and a few grimaces) and a positive, encouraging attitude, not just to myself but to all the other riders as well. 

The final result was 8th place. Pamela got 9th! Way to go! 

Final race results. Lots of strong riders!

I learned a lot today and will test my learning curve at tomorrow's race as I will be starting in the front from here on out. Nothing but up from here!

Best part of today was making new friends. :) It almost made me forget all the suffering I endured.

Rocket Science

Ah, winter. Winter is the time for layering, bundling, and cuddling. Winter is also time for gatherings, gifts, colds, and flus. But most importantly, as an athlete, winter is the time for me to test my determination and will in perfecting the art of snot rocketing.

Yes, you've read that right. I have yet to get my degree in this field of rocket science after what has been many years since I enrolled in this athletic world university. I first gained interest in this field of study after witnessing my sister launch her rockets during one of our runs when I visited her at college. Amazed, I asked her how she achieved such localized pressure and impeccable aim in the launch. It's easy, she said. Just cover one nostril and blow.

I have since learned what's easy for Karen is not easy for me. After wiping the snot residue off my face, I decided to stick with sniffling throughout the entire run. I don't need this stupid degree, even though it'll make me look so cool and professional.

Fast forward 5 years later. The need for my rocket science degree increased as I started biking in the winter. You can always use your hands, but then where are you going to wipe them? Your jersey only has so many clean spots (especially if you're out riding 70+ miles) and having rocket residue all over your handle bars is quite disgusting. So as any good scientist would do, I kept notes on my experimentations and trials. Here are a few things I've learned:

• There are at least 3 types of rockets and only one of them is optimal for launching. 
• The first type is similar to a runny nose, and this rocket will not have enough substance to launch, no matter how much fire power is exerted. Best way to handle type I is to use tissue, shirt, or just sniffle.
• The second rocket type is quite adhesive. It's kin is the kind of snot you get when you're sick. When you blow, it's like Rapunzel's hair -- never ending. THESE ARE NOT IDEAL ROCKETS! Trust me. Just like how Rapunzel's hair gets all over her face, so do these rockets. And they're harder to get rid of as they are stickier than a spider's web.

  

  How I feel when I accidentally launch a type II rocket.

• The third type has a viscosity that's in between type I and type II. These make very decent rockets. The weight, size, and viscosity of type IIIs allow for them to be released as nice pellets. Any bit of launching power shoots them out of the staging chamber. You are not required to keep launching for two minutes as type II do just to clear the chamber.

  

  Type III rockets are most ideal for launching.
  Side note: if your type III is modeled after this (green in color), you have a sinus infection!

• If you are unsure about which type of rocket is stored in the staging chamber, I strongly advise you to either wait till you're alone on the ride or to move to the back of the pack before launching. If it's a type II, be sure to clean your face well before working your way back up the peleton!

I still haven't gotten my master degree in Rocket Science as I am still traumatized by the last rocket I launched almost a year ago, but I will not let that deter me and will continue to learn and practice until that diploma is mine. In the meantime, please excuse rocket residues on my face. It's all in the love of sport science!

Me and my inspiration aka Snot Rocket Master.