"The good fight is the one that's fought in the name of our dreams. When we're young and our dreams first explode inside us with all of their force, we are very courageous, but we haven't yet learned how to fight. With great effort, we learn how to fight, but by then we no longer have the courage to go into combat. So we turn against ourselves and do battle within. We become our own worst enemy. We say that our dreams were childish, or too difficult to realize, or the result of our not having known enough about life. We kill our dreams because we are afraid to fight the good fight."

It's my Gimpy MONTH

I used to celebrate the entire month of March as my birthday month, so it seems fitting that instead of having just a crippled birthday, I get a Crippled MONTH.  May is National Guillain Barre Syndrome Awareness Month and marks my anniversary of having GBS.

I think I got even cuter, even with AFOs.

I wrote this last year, on my 30th crippled birthday.  That's right kids, I've been gimpy longer than you've been alive!

GBS 30th Birthday

A lot of things float around on Facebook.  There are a lot of facebook pages for "survivors" of Guillain Barre Syndrome. I struggle (frequently) with how to interact with those pages.   I have a different view on all of this because I don't know how to be any different.  I'm not a survivor, I just am.  Everyone overcomes things in their lives and maybe we should view everyone as survivors.

At the beginning of the month, someone asked people to summarize their experiences with GBS in one word (see the cover photo someone created at the top of this post). I've spent the month's bike rides trying to think of one word that would do just that.  I hated the words that others came up with - they seem so self-defeating. It can be defeating.  I have felt misunderstood and it's hard to be in pain when you really aren't in pain and no one understands.  It's hard to meet people's parent and walk like you are intoxicated.  But all of those things are part of the human experience.  I think that by labeling the experience with such negativity we allow it to become just that.  I don't have a word.  Maybe it is life-changing. But it didn't change my life, it is just part of my life.

And just because I like to take a stroll down memory lane, every year I pull out the scrapbook my mom made for me.

I do know that I HATED tilt boards.  I had to tilt board for almost a year after I was diagnosed.  Pretty sure I also still make this face.

I wasn't a fan of this either - but I did get Apple Jacks!  Also, please note that my hair is rather cute in all photos!  Thanks mom for making sure I looked awesome even when I was in the hospital.  Maybe that's why I get my hair done before surgeries!

My first trip outside the hospital, with our family dog, Mork 

(you read that correctly and yes I just aged myself even more.  Good work on picking a dog name Mom and Dad!).

Nurse Laura!  In the back of the scrapbook are all of the cards that people sent (you can see some of them on my crib in this picture).  People loved me even back then!  

I am truly blessed to have so many people who love me, put up with me banging my feet together and being cranky when I don't get what I want (THAT has nothing to do with GBS, just my own personal crankiness).  Thank you!

Greenvile Open 2013 v1.0

It's hard to write about disappointments.  But cycling is full of disappointments.  Supposedly, the lows make the highs that much more enjoyable.

Last weekend we traveled to Greenville, SC for the UCI Paracyling Open. In 2014 the Road World Championships will be held in this exact place - so it was a chance for us to see the course ahead of time.  It was also a selection event for the European World Cups.

This was my first experience packing my own bikes.  The nights before I left were a little nutty since I have zero mechanical skills! They all got broken down and arrived without damage.

Ummm....do I have all the pieces?  

We arrived in Greenville after a loooooonnng flight that included spending some time on the runway.  Greenville is a great town!  The people in the airport were incredible and everyone was very kind.  We collected 5 bikes, luggage and other paraphernalia and headed to our hotel.

On Friday, we pre-rode the course.  It was a LOT hillier than I expected.  Thursday was the time trial.  I woke up feeing well, but the race didn't go so well.  Same with the road race on Sunday.   I really have no reason to be disappointed in how I rode. I am where I am at this point.  It's disappointing to lose.

BUT....it's time to move forward.  There are things to accomplish.  By FAR this is the hardest thing I have attempted to do.  Someone recently told me that I am arrogant - in all areas except bike racing.  Maybe that is true. But I'm "good" at other things.  I'm not all that great at bike racing.....yet!

I am proud of my friends on the team who did well.  Fuck Face got second in the time trial. I tried to steal his flowers, but he gave the to his mom instead.

The better part of the weekend was that people I LOVE came to see me race.  As we all know, I'm not the biggest fan of people seeing me race.  But it was OK.  My mom and dad have been my biggest supporters in this crazy endeavor and I am glad that they finally got to see me race.

Thank you Mom and Dad for coming to support me.  No matter how much I whine, I really appreciated it!

Since "Chad" aka Ocho is still in training at Guide Dogs for the Blind, he sent his wishes via text.  Thanks ChoCho!

 

The people who cheered me on at the time trial

Carrie Newcomb drove all the way from Asheville to see me (and really check up on Moochie!).

Once a dog raiser, always a dog rasier. Carrie did an excellent job running career change, Shelby, around the grassy knolls.

Carrie, my mom, my dad and Warren Johnson (the photographers lucky husband!)

So the weekend didn't go how I would have liked it to.  It was another drop in the bucket on my way to be a bike racer.  I learned that I'm not quite there yet.  I have a lot of things to learn.  Someday, I will wear these lucky sucks and make them lucky by winning!

The MVP of the weekend is Baby Cody. We drug him along to get him classified. Unfortunately the classifiers deemed that he is disabled, but not disabled enough to race para.  Sooooooo....he spent the weekend helping me make sure my bike didn't fall apart. He kept me calm.  He was the only person I wanted to see after the debacle of the road race.  Sometimes it's shocking to me that we have only known each other for a few weeks,  Thank you Baby Cody for keeping me sane!  

The Bridge

This past week I spent a good chunk of time on the Santa Ana River Trail.  Time Trial efforts and recovery rides on a TT bike don't go so well on the roads.  As terrifying as the river trail is (lots of people who don't pay attention, people who don't know how to ride bikes), it reminded me of a looooonnnngggg time ago when I first started riding bikes.   I was the person on the trail that had no idea what I was doing.

I took a picture of the bridge above to remind myself of several things.  First of all, how far I have come since I first started riding.  When I first started riding one of my goals was to be able to ride across one of these bridges out of the saddle. The wood is bumpy and it's not pleasant to ride across. That is what came to my mind first when I crossed the bridge today.  I easily, without thinking, got out of the saddle and rode across the bridge. I struggled with that for almost a year.  And now, it was essentially effortless. Yes, as a bike racer I should be able to do that - but it was a simple reminder that although I have a long way to go, I also have come a long way.

And that is the second point of which this picture reminds me is that I still have many bridges to cross.  I can't see what's on the other side, but I do know that I have to work hard to get there.  It's not going to come easily or on the first try.  But in order to do it, I have to trust.  I have to keep going.  A bridge is a means of crossing between two places.  Becoming a bike racer is something so radically different than anything I've done.  I have to learn to trust my body.  Learn to be patient.  Learn to push beyond that which I am comfortable.  Bike racing encompasses a lot of things that I am not necessarily good at, yet.  

But the bridge reminds me that it is possible.  It is possible to learn and grow.  

Redlands Classic 2013

Last weekend, we had the opportunity to race the Redlands Classic.  It's the first National Racing Calendar race of the year and it was really exciting to be there!  This is the first year that they included all of the paracycling categories. In the past, they only had a hand cycling category.

It was a busy week. There was a national team camp in Chula Vista. So I drove down to San Diego on Monday and then did the Honey Springs Time Trial with the team on Tuesday.  That time trial continues to get the best of me.  

We left late Wednesday morning and drove to Big Bear to ride the time trial course around Big Bear Lake.  

We drove down the mountain to the technical meeting, ate dinner and then drove back up the mountain to sleep and get ready for the time trial the next morning.

We stayed at The Robinhood Resort.  It was adorable!  I spent the morning before the time trial in the common area, in front of the fire place.  The room was a little retro, but it was comfortable.  

On Friday morning, we went to breakfast and then rode over to the time trial.  I was overwhelmed with awe because of all the pro team riders that I were next to us.  I, of course cementing my coolness, took a picture of my cyclist crush team, Vanderkitten.  Yup, super not #pro.  But I didn't care.

The time trial was short - only about 5 miles.  It had a semi-steep pitchy hill and the rest was pretty rolly.  I paced it incorrectly. I essentially rode two pursuits - one at the beginning, a crap shoot in the middle, and when I saw the 3k sign I did another pursuit.  It wasn't a terrible effort, but I still have a lot to learn about time trialing.

But, since there were no other C1-3 women competing....I WIN! First and last.  Always first and last place!

The plan was to drive down the mountain, drive to Irvine and do another time trial at Great Park that night.  When we got to the bottom, FF didn't want to go to Irvine. An executive decision was made and we got a room in Redlands. I wanted to race the second time trial, but I guess since this happened at dinner that night, FF might have had a good idea!

 The next morning was the road race in Beaumont.  To be fair, it was really a circuit race. We did 7 laps in an hour.  It was much more fun racing with others than the time trial.  I was dropped from the upright single bike guys pretty quickly. I rode alone for a few laps until Steve Peace and Monica Basicio caught up to me. We "worked together" through the last few laps.  By that, I mean I sat on Peace's wheels through the wind and then sprinted through the line so it didn't look like I was drafting off a trike. Ya, that happened.  I thought we were going to be done at six laps, but Ian announced as I sprinted through the line that we had one more lap. I was not pleased about THAT!  But it did teach me that I had more left in the tank than I thought I had.

While we were waiting for the podium, I got a chance to oggle the pros at the start of their road race.

And so we arrived at another podium ceremony.

Decide. Commit. Execute. Succeed.

Interestingly, it's not as easy to be #pro as one might think. Now that riding a bike is my only "job," there is a lot more stress involved.  When I make mistakes, it isn't because I have a real job and biking is a hobby.  The only thing I have to do is ride my bike and prepare my body. Admittedly I haven't been terribly successful at this.  I've had a lot of slip ups and had to start over.

Then I stepped back and looked at the big picture.  Greenville is still more than a year away.  Rio is still more than three years away.  The past 2.5 weeks are not going to make or break my success in either event.

So I decided to find something that I could repeat and hold on to - something that would hold me accountable to my goals for today and my goals for the future.

Decide.

Commit.

Execute.

Succeed.

Seems simple enough to be repeated, but deep enough to mean something.

Piru Time Trial

Today I did my first time trial since the Augusta debacle.  My TT bike is still getting di2 put on it (well, to be honest, it's been finished for a few weeks and I just haven't gotten around to getting it), so I Eddy Merckx'd the time trial on my road bike.  Nothing aero.  

It wasn't a complete success, but it wasn't a complete failure either.  I came in third in the women's 1-4 category (out of three women!).  But I did beat most of the women in the Public category, I caught my 30 second carrot (the person racing ahead of me) and my average power was acceptable for the time it took me to do 20K.

I know that I still have a long way to go.

Coming up....all sorts of life changes.  I'll fill you in!

One Day at a Time

I tend to get caught up in the every day things and let them convince me that I "can't do X."  Whatever X may be.

When I first started this post, I intended to go through all of the X's that stop me - or that I perceive stop me.  But really, what good does that do?  Part of my new training mentality is to only look at the task at hand. Don't let fear of the fallout of your current effort affect the current effort. So I stopped.  I don't want to see the things that will stop me.  I want to see the reasons why I can.

Today I have a 4 hour ride, including Latigo Canyon.  It's only four hours.  I will live in the day.  I will do my best on THIS ride, not worry about tomorrow and finish stronger than I started.

Choose Love

I woke up this morning and realized that my life is about to significantly change.  I turned in the letter to terminate my lease for my apartment.  I told my boss that I am going to take a leave of absence. I fired the coach that I started with and who helped me get to where I am now.  I hired a new coach who seems to have a lot of things that I need in order to take me to the next level.

I have learned so much over the past year.  Going into to Track Worlds I had NO idea what I was doing.  I thought I could win races just by riding my bike.  Road Nationals, well let's not go there.  I had some down time from July until now. I rode my bike.  I got car doored. I got sick.  I tried to figure out who I wanted to be as an athlete.

As part of the process of figuring out who I am as an athlete, I found that deep down, there is a black box of anger that I had hidden for most of my life.  I don't want to be angry.  But I was.  And sometimes I still am.  I tried to use that as a motivation. Sometimes it worked, but most of the time I didn't harness the anger properly and it backfired.  So going forward, I am going to choose love.  I choose to love my teammates.  I am going to choose to love riding my bike. It isn't an activity to punish myself with, but an activity to push my limits and appreciate what my body can do for me.

I'm sure there are days the hate will resurface.  But I am going to make a concerted effort to choose love.

Pepita!

I've had a new bike for a few weeks.  Her name is Pepita.  No mom, not Pedita - Pepita!  She is a blue BH Cristal.  I find it awesome that I started this blog about 2.5 years ago to chronicle my pilgrimage across Spain on The Camino de Santiago.  On that trip, I rode a borrowed BH bike and now I own a BH.  She is blue. Not pink. There will only be one pink bike (RIP).

It took me a while to get used to the different components (I switched to Shimano).  But today I had my first ride on Shimano's new Ultegra di2.  The shifting is all electronic.  It's still new and my fingers are still figuring out the new shifting mechanics.  BUT I can see good things in my future with this new shifting.  Since my fingers aren't especially strong, I often struggle to shift.  But with the electronic shifting, one touch of a button and the bike flawlessly shifts.  The soft buzz that I hear is music to my ears.

As I was riding this afternoon, I thought about how far I had come in a short time.  In April, it will be two years since I went to development camp.  In that time I've learned an immense amount about bikes. I learned that the track exists.  I learned about time trial bikes. I learned about overtraining, overhydrating, caring too much about a race, caring too little about a race. I know about failure of my muscles. I know about (most) parts of my bike.  I'm proud of the things I've learned and the things I've accomplished over the past two years.  I look ahead to the future and know that even greater things lie ahead.

National Team Camp

I'm a bit behind on blogging.  A week ago, I got home from "camp."  Now by camp, I don't mean campfires and tents.  We ride bikes. We eat.  We nap. We eat. We ride bikes. We eat.  We sleep.  It's fantastic.  

This year we had winter camp at the Olympic Training Center in Chula Vista (near San Diego). It was COLD!  

The first day we had early morning blood tests.  I survived.  I turned on some Little Big Town and let them take their vials of blood.  That afternoon, I was the very last member of the team to do the ramp test.  I'm not a fan of trainers.  But my bike was hooked up to the trainer and every three minutes, the tension was increased by 25 watts, until failure. I made it far longer than I expected. I lasted a minute and some change at 225 watts.  And that's where pleasantly surprising myself ended.

The next day we did the flat time trial (Otay Lakes). I ended the time trial last, even though I started second. That became a trend.  On the third day, we did the infamous Honey Springs time trial:

I flatted about .5 miles from the top.  Thus marked as DNF (did not finish).  But, that happens.  I felt terrible after every time trial. But when I sat down with my power files, it wasn't that horrible. I'll keep that in mind.

I spent the week with "the baby" group.  Some day I might get to play with the big kids, but first I just need to learn to ride my bike without killing anyone!  We rode 3-4 hours every day.  It was exhausting trying to keep up.  Sometimes, I have to remind myself that as a female and one of the more disabled athletes at camp, I'm working harder than most just to keep up in warm up.  It was a stark reminder of how much I have to learn and how far I have to go.

We do get to eat good food!  That we don't have to cook!

I think they should let us out on the BMX track.

This year is going to prove to be exciting.  The door is open, I just have to work hard and push through.  Stay tuned...

Otay Lakes TT

I am going to write this tonight because today was just a baseline.  That's all it was. One data point.

Yesterday we had a Lactic Threshold ramp test. What is that you ask?  Our bikes were hooked up to a computrainer - a torture device that adjusts the tension on your bike to "make" you pedal a certain power.  We started at 100 watts and every three minutes we were increased by 25 watts.  I had no idea what expect.  I ended up pulling off a good result. I got up to 225 watts for about a minute and some change.

Today was not so surprising.  We had a 15k time trial. It's mostly flat with some rollers.  I was started second (we were in reverse order of expected speed - slowest goes first).  I finished last. It was disheartening to be passed by every member of my team.

Track Nationals

Track National Championships 2012

Track Nationals was a mixed bag this year.  I didn't particularly want to race, seeing as I haven't spent any time on the boards since before Augusta.  But the email came through that I needed to race, so I decided to race the 500m time trial.  I probably should have raced the pursuit as well, but that's why this bike racing thing is a long term learning process, not an instant gratification data point.

So, we'll skip right to the part where I DID "race."  Since The Games were just a few weeks ago, there weren't many people there.  I was on the track alone.  Warm-up went well, being on the track went OK and I was just shooting for a sub-50 second time.  After an OK start and a less than admirable second lap, the final time was 49.05 seconds. Not bad for less than optimal fitness, training and being broken.  I'll take it - along with the National Championship jersey that goes with it.

But the time at the track brought up the fact that I need to commit and jump into racing with both feet.  I don't like looking stupid.  I don't like getting dropped at the start.  But if I want to be a bike racer, then it's time to be a bike racer.

Game on.

When you get beat by your own brain

I fight myself a lot.  I would be 99% more efficient if I would learn to let go.  The more I get into my own brain, the more problems I have.

I've been training relatively hard, given the fact that I broke my collarbone 10 weeks ago.  Last weekend we did a Gran Fondo.  Ouch.  But I felt good. I rode with people who don't know me, and I was able to keep up.  The beginning of the week was not so great. But by Wednesday the legs started to come around.  Thursday and Friday were OK.

Saturday I rode with my uncle.  He was hurt recently and hasn't ridden much and yet, he could have throttled me if he wanted.  On a climb that I've done hundreds of times - up to Pepperdine - I was pushing 200w (which is a LOT for me) and yet I was passed by people who just seemed to be soft pedaling up the hill. I get really frustrated when, even though I'm doing well for me, I still get creamed by others.

I want to be good. I want to be fast. I want to keep up with the able-bodied people.  I want to belong on the National Team and not be there by accident.  I want to do well.

I need to have realistic expectations.  I need to give myself credit when I do things well. I need to stop giving a fuck and just ride my damned bike.

On being...what I am

I'm not always sure how to address the issue of being "disabled." Since I had GBS when I was two, I don't really know the difference.  For at least 28 years I pretended that nothing was wrong.  Sure, I wore AFO's and walked funny, but I was just like every one else.

It seems ironic, in my mind, that it took hanging out with a bunch of crippled people to figure out that I actually AM different from everyone else.  This is the best part of being part of the National Team. Even better than the awesome kits.  I finally realized that there are people "like me."

"But you don't look disabled."
"You got beat by someone with ONE leg?"
"You're tired?  You never go out!"

Why, yes! To all of the above.  I can fake being normal pretty well, but the bottom line is I'm not playing with a full deck and it's about time I give myself some credit for that.

The most difficult concession I've made is that I'm tired. All. The. Time. And it's not necessarily my fault. It's part of who I am.  I can't expect myself to "keep up with the __________'s."  Today, I spent 2 hours cooking food for the week and I'm exhausted.  I want to finish cleaning my house, have all of my laundry folded and organized by color, iron all of my clothes that I just washed, lay out all of my clothes for the week and then go to church, be social and support the friend who needs help.  But I can't.  I'm exhausted.

So instead of pushing the limits, I'm going to rest.  The mess will be here tomorrow.  And hopefully so will I!