Negative Self-talk

I know, I know!

We all know what negative self-talk does to us, to our self-esteem, to our beautiful smiles and how fast we can turn pedals. Miff already set me straight on that (Thanks Miff!) so no need to harp on. But it's not all just black and white ... like my matching shoes and helmets. I hope you don't find me strange. I'm just an ordinary cyclist (girl)!

So when is it wise to listen to your body and when is it lazy excuse for not being tough enough?

I slept in this morning, did not race the 30 km club time trial championship, rode out to meet AMR after the race instead, feeling shit about myself, about not racing, about being forced to ride slow because my body won't allow me to ride fast... I wasn't sorry for myself, just angry and impatient and frustrated because training can't fix this. And then I took the off-road trail through the forest because I couldn't face climbing the range and I forced myself to think that I'm actually lucky because I can still ride my bike - who cares if it's fast or slow. As long as I enjoyed it and enjoying I was riding off road on skinny tires.

 

And a smile returned to my face. And then, back on the road through Samford, a very nice triathlete, training for Ironman, joined me and we chatted and with a long hill some competitive spark returned...

... and talking to Miff and lots of other friends at the race finish made me snap out of my silly mood and I was glad I had made the twenty kilometer trip. But the best of all was leading/following my skinny ... eh SKINS ... man home. That brought the biggest smile back to my face. And with that smile on my face, even the hills through Bunya seemed not as hard as before. Go figure!

Guess, what colour shoes I wore today!

People like winners!

Or that's what I always believed. But I like Schleck. Better than Contador. I always liked Ullrich, too. Better than Armstrong for sure. And above all I like Jens and Fabian.

Maybe the truth is that people think they are liked more, more likable, when they win? I thought that for a while. A long time actually!

But what does 'being liked' have to do with bike racing?

Nothing really! Imagine a truly competitive person, someone who is not concerned about win-win outcomes, someone who knows that there is actually a place for win-loose thinking in truly competitive situations like for a example a bike race. No room for building relationships, short alliances maybe, but no long-term real stuff.

Why is that now on my mind?

To cut a long story short: I haven't done well in racing this weekend but I've done better in engaging with other people.

Roads begging to be ridden

Cold morning air and the nervous stomach of race day

The time trial was hard and I kept coughing for hours afterwards from the heavy breathing. I gave it everything I had and was very pleased with myself even though the result wasn't anything to show for. The absence of competitiveness was refreshing.

The first road race started well and I felt confident and strong until I started cramping, less than 20 km into this 40 km race. Cramps have never been a problem for me, not until last year's Tour of Bright. There was nothing I could do. When my legs went into lactic acid overdrive on the many hills, I lost a wheel, chased with six others for ten kilometers with the bunch just up the road in our vision, dug so deep that I swear, even my heart started cramping.

After evaluating the damage - my legs continued cramping for hours after the race and into the evening and my right hamstring was so tender that I limped - I decided to call the tour a tour and live to train another day. While this decision may prove greater maturity than I have shown on previous occasions, it was challenged and ... somewhat ... criticised. My trusted friend Debs, after my retirement announcement over dinner back in the camp, declared that she's never DNF (did not finish) again after having pulled out of a race once. She took the ride in the sag wagon and felt lousy. Each case is different, subtly, and mine is a DNS (did not start).

The next morning saw us rushing to the start of stage three and with my hamstring, and whole body, still sore, I knew there was no way I'd hang on to 60 gruelling kilometers without doing more damage to already torn muscle fibres. I went for an easy 30 km spin instead to stretch my legs.

It's going to be a long road back. A long road back to the level of fitness to handle this kind of intensity. The first step on this road hurt like hell. I'm not afraid of pain but I'd lie if I said I wasn't thinking: "It's still time to turn around and not go the whole long way to Master's Nationals".

But why not go anyway - for the friends to make along the way?

The way I felt after the Fusion Criterium I expected some emotional backlash from the weekend but surprisingly I feel highly motivated and the hamstring has already settled down enough to continue training.

Suck it up!

Is it OK to talk about insecurity as an athlete?

I promised Alberto before the Fusion Criterium that I wouldn’t be upset if I got dropped and I really believed myself when I promised it. All the rationalisation of why it was to be expected and not a big deal but the truth is, and that's quite unexpected, that since Sunday I’m having nagging doubts and my confidence is ... well ... maybe not shattered but chipped. Now I’m wondering if I will be able to handle it mentally and emotionally if I have a bad Tour of the Scenic Rim ... and how that may effect the rest of the year and my other goals.

It's not just insecurity, however. It's also fear that I could be jeopardising the rest of the season that hasn't even started, yet. Racing could push my "not yet ready" body straight over the edge again. Right now all signs indicate that I won’t be having a great result. So why risk it? My rest heart rate has been 75, 67 and this morning 53 bpm! Three consecutive days … huge differences. Go figure! Three weeks ago I felt strong and ready to race and now nothing makes sense. Yesterday, during an easy ride with a good friend, I struggled to hang on.

At least I have an excuse if I suck but it doesn't make me feel good about shit race results and being judged by others. People do talk and they talk even if they don't know. They just see the result and talk. That's the same for the ones on top of the sport (Hello Cadel!) and the weekend warriors and amateurs. If you suck, you suck! Cycling is cruel like that but it's inherent in competitiveness. Join the community knitting group if you need coddling.

Sometimes it's tough to make it to the start line ... and a great achievement to make it to the finish. It takes inner strength to suck up the rest.

The campervan and campground are booked and I've taken Friday afternoon off work so we can head down to Lake Moogerah before the race starts on Saturday. It's less than two hours drive from Brisbane but we decided to turn it into a weekend away and camp rather then driving back and forth. The course of Stage Two I raced a couple years ago and Stage Three is partly last year's State Championship course.

Hilly courses usually suit me and a weekend spend with friends and camping will be great fun.

The rest I will just suck up! enjoy, too!

The best way to regain race fitness is to race!

After that marathon sleep last Saturday I started to feel better but the training week was still hit and miss with Tuesday's and Thursday's training sessions completed but the recovery rides swapped for high intense recovery - extra snooze time.

I didn't have great expectations for today's Fusion Criterium so I went into the race with the expectation to get a high intensity workout. I got exactly that. Being a handicap race, I knew it was going to be tough if I get graded as if I was in my best possible shape.

I started off with strong B-Grade girls and with muscles immediately starting to build lactic acid and very average cornering skills, I saw myself off the back of our four girl group just after ten short minutes into this 30 minute criterium. I felt better as the race went on and joined groups of girls as they caught me from behind. I loved the street circuit, the barricades, the race commentary over loudspeakers and the cheers from people watching from the sides of the streets so a big thank you to QSM Sports for organising such a great event.

The Tour of the Scenic Rim next weekend is going to hurt but it can only get better from here.

Dreaming of a Happy Ending - My Powertap Story continues

It's turning into a never-ending story and not one of great imagination I must say. The process is agonising and tedious but it makes for an entertaining (and educational) tale to tell in the coffee shop so read on.

My ongoing Powertap issues (please catch up on previous chapters here, here and here) seem to be closer to getting resolved. Third time lucky?

After failing to send a signal altogether back in February, my Powertap wheel took a long trip to the US to visit Saris for replacement and eleven weeks later I was delighted to receive the brand new SL+ hub, a free upgrade to my previous 2.4 model. The joy was short-lived. The numbers it returned seemed odd, indicating a problem ... or major improvements on my part that were rather impossible. As much as I would have liked to be able to average 378 Watts over five minutes, this would put me amongst world class elite riders and Saturday morning club crits fail to confirm the power readings as being real.

The red arrow pointing at example power readings (yellow line) while coasting (green = cadence = zero) downhill (orange line = altitude)

A roller session where I allegedly put out 200 Watts while spinning easy to warm up, then went to fetch a towel and upon return barely managed to push 50 Watts in my big chain ring and small cogg. The mysterious world of my Powertap!

I sought solutions on local bike forums and asked friends with Powertap experience to have a look but all my trouble shooting of zeroing torque, removing all sources of interference, changing batteries etc didn't resolve the issue. The random numbers remained so I sent an email to Saris US and then the Australian distributor when I hadn't heared back from the US after a few days.

The Australian distributor in Sydney answered immediately and was extremely helpful. He requested a few test protocols to figure out the problem and a week and six emails later he indicated that distribution changes were imminent and that the data I had emailed him showed no problems with my unit. Then there was silence altogether for days.

Getting increasingly frustrated (understandably?) I tried Saris again directly.

This time the response was overwhelming. My inbox was now overflowing with emails from Jason, Eric, Andy and Tom from Saris' Customer Service, all offering help and similar test protocols to what I had been through already, which was great but also left the impression that they were rather unorganised in their approach to office administration.

I chose to answer Andy's email because his reply started with "Sorry to read about your troubles." Two emails later - he couldn't find any record of my warranty claim from earlier this year in the Saris database - Andy offered to replace the hub for the cost of one return postage to the US.

The same day I received an email from Sydney, apologising for the delay in responding (he had been away from the office) and also offering to have the wheel send to Sydney for inspection and repair or replacement if necessary.

The story is still getting better so bear with me!

The decision was made that I should drop my wheel at my local bikeshop to be shipped to Sydney. I nominated the bike shop where I had bought the Powertap.

All said and done, another email arrived that afternoon informing me that a new complication had arisen and that the bike shop I had nominated was unwilling to take on the dealings of this warranty claim. They may or may not have good reasons to do this. No explanation other than the changes to distribution of Powertap in Australia was given.

The wheel will now be picked up from my place on Monday morning, no cost to me ... and I'm impressed by the service from the Australian distributor.

Once again, only my local bike shop left a bad impression in this whole story! The reason I bought the Powertap at my local bikeshop and not on the internet (spending probably $800 more in the process) was to receive after sales service if something goes wrong. I received no help from my bike shop resolving this and would recommend anybody to buy on the internet, saving money and the anguish of bad customer service.

The conclusion I draw at this point is that the changes to the distribution of Cycleops Powertap products in Australia is great news for everybody owning or planning to purchase a Powertap - I'm led to believe that Saris itself is going to open service centres through which their products will be sold - because it will lead to speedier and better after sales service and therefore more confidence in the product itself.

Progress

One and a half years ago I thought riding on rollers was impossible. Last night I took my hands off the handlebars...



I'll never think 'impossible' again. My sports teacher in school, a lovely old lady with bite, used to say when we girls complained that we couldn't jump that high or run that fast: "You can't do it ... YET!"

I can do it now!

Right on Schedule

This has been a challenging rest week. Take last night for example! I woke up at three, quick nature break and it wasn't too hard to get back to sleep. Next I woke up at six, which was way before my target sleep hours. So I turned around and put a lot of effort into increasing my sleep output. Eight o'clock, the sun was shining through this tiny gap in the dark curtains, right on my pillow and my face. I persevered for another hour but gave up just after nine o'clock because I was dying for a coffee. Twelve hours in bed - beat that!

I'm fully aware that this is taking "rest week" to a whole new level, a level that is not intended.

The truth is my thyroid is throwing a little tantrum and I haven't been on my bike all week. I barely made it through the work week with not enough energy left to cook dinner at night. If it wasn't for Alberto to look after me I would have gone to bed without food more than once. Everything slowed down to an almost "stand still". When brushing your teeth becomes such an effort that you cry yourself into sleep afterwards distressed and overwhelmed then you know that training, and even easy riding, is out of question.

I fear it was my fault, too. It was just that one more four hour training ride last Sunday to complete the training block before the rest week. I thought it'd be ok but the cumulative training load of the last three weeks of increased intensity probably pushed me over the edge. There was the possibility that I was testing the limit.

I saw the sports doctor on Tuesday and he confirmed that just because my blood test results are normal doesn't necessarily mean that my body can handle the intensity just yet. It will be a slow return and trial and error for some time to come and I will have to play by ... morning rest heart rate and general feel.

He said I should not expect to have my best season ever ... whatever!

Do I feel like throwing it all in and stop cycling? Yes, sometimes.

But let's concentrate on the task at hand. Coffee then more sleep ... or the other way around?

What are they talking about?

I found this on Lawrence's Turn in Left Blog. Apart from some patronising comments (aren't we so used to and over it?) it makes me wanna join a team, race hard, show them ...

"Watching paint dry and grass grow springs to mind" ... a recent chauvinistic remark on a local cycling forum that made me think "Well, I've seen pretty pathetic racing by you guys, too..."

"Our racing is just as exciting ... we are only more beautiful!"

"The Heat is On" from Jim Fryer/BrakeThrough Media on Vimeo.

Criterium, not CX

It didn't look good for this morning's race at first. Even Alberto told me to go back to bed. I felt horrible. This dry itchy cough had kept me awake in the early morning hours. My eyes were all puffy and I was tired. My rest heartrate was high but at the end of a big three week intensity block of training an elevated rest heartrate might not mean sickness.

Pure discipline got me dressed and out the door with Alberto at 5:30am to meet his team mates in the city for a two hour warm up ride before the race. It was cold, wet and miserable (did I mention dark?) but I was strangely happy. I felt good on the bike.

And so it came that I had my number pinned on by Donna and everybody teased me for "sandbagging" in C-Grade. I thought it was exactly the grade I should be racing after over six months - yes, my last race was the Tour of Bright 2009 in early December - and the race felt tough, more muscular than cardiovascular. Twice I thought I was going to get dropped when we turned into that headwind because my legs were just simply not putting more pressure on the pedals, a little bit like trying to push the leg press that you loaded with too much weight. No matter how determined the mind, the muscles are simply not strong enough to do it. I somehow managed to hang on. And with two laps to go there was a surge and I almost - almost - lost the last wheel and almost - almost - got dropped.

At the end I hung on and had fun and even though I'm a long way off good form, I'm glad I finally took the first step and got the first race of the (late) season out of the way.

The way I looked, covered in mud from the wet roads, you would have thought I had raced a cx race and not a criterium when I got home.

I'm not good at short sharp criteriums, especially the ones of medium difficulty with hot dog turns, tricky corners and rough patches of road, like they describe the Fusion Criterium, a brand new inner city Brisbane criterium event, the event I just entered a few minutes ago. I've now got two weeks to learn how to corner!