Mt Somers is like an old friend

Yesterday was my forth Mt Somers race and after a week of lying round and recuperating from the Hanmer 4hr I wasn’t holding out much hope of putting in a stellar performance. I wasn’t too concerned though, I love this race, it’s really fun with a great atmosphere and through gorgeous country.

I woke up on Sunday morning in race mode, which meant I was insanely hyper active and bubbling. I bounced around packing and making coffee for hubby and Dirtdiva and soon we were on the road. Having an extra person in the car meant I babbled on even more than the norm and journey to Mt Somers flew by, well for me anyway. After passing through the traditional fog on Thompson’s Track we arrived to a gorgeous sunny day and unloaded the bikes. Poor Dirtdiva was riding my fat Jamis with its tractor tyres, it was going to be slow on the climbs, but I still think it was the more sensible choice than her singlespeed, good strength training!

At the start we barged our way into the second row of riders in the Intermediate race and after the briefing and Mexican wave we watched the Challenge riders blast away. Then it was our turn and for the first time I wasn’t dropped by everyone in the first 100ms and found I was able to stay in touch with the main group of riders. Knowing the exact layout of the course was great, it meant I wasn’t worried about pushing too hard off the start as I knew there was a downhill where I could have a wee rest not far after. Into the paddocks and the long wet grass sucked at tyres and pulled energy from legs and I thought of Dirtdiva on my squishy bike, it was going to suck. Once the pack spread out a bit more I managed to find a tyre-wide bit of dirt to ride in and began moving up the hill at a better pace, then the first little bit of down and I zoomed past more people. On the gravel roads I held my own for a change and I was working really hard, my heart hammering in my chest. Around the base of the hill and the track was slippy and fun in the shady spots and I knew we would be in for some very slippery sections on the climb. At one point I was bombing along and hit a patch of mud a bit fast and off line and skidded through it sideways, laughing like a madwoman. Fun times.

Soon enough we hit the first steep climb and all around me people got off their bikes. One woman next to me said “Why would you even try to ride that?!” and I replied in Ed Hilary styles “Because it’s there” and proceeded to ride the whole thing, picking my way through the walkers. I was wheezing and stoked and spun further up the hill, determined to ride as much of the hill as traffic and mud would allow. Up the hill I went, forward on my seat, using my arms, but relaxed as I could be, just spinning up the hill, letting my legs do what I know they can and pointing my bike at the route with the most traction. Up into the manuka and the track became slicker and slicker and I picked my way through the traffic with many people encouraging me. Unfortunately my crossmark tyres couldn’t find traction and my back wheel spun out and that was it for my climbing for a while. Round the corner and the track dried out a bit as we climbed higher and I was able to remount and ride, much easier than pushing.

I was going really well and felt strong still, the traffic wasn’t so thick that I couldn’t ride for walkers, although there were a few people riding who were a bit scary. One guy was trying to remount and wasn’t able to get enough momentum to get going and would zoom off and topple, I was worried he’d fall into me, but he didn’t, that came later when a guy tried to pass me on the inside of a rutty corner and chose a bad line. He went down into my back wheel, luckily I managed to stay on the bike, but I stopped anyway to make sure he was ok, which he was. The climb pitched up one more time and my legs and lungs finally exploded. I could see the clearing in the bush up at the next corner and knew that was where the track levelled out a bit. I pushed my bike up with everyone else, but unlike them I was wheezing like an elderly smoker. At the corner I stopped briefly to take in the amazing view that went all the way across the plains to the sea, and try and get my heart rate under control before I keeled over. Then back on the bike and up I went. I got to the top in an hour and was really happy with that, but even happier that I could unlock my shocks and point my bike in the right direction. I blasted down the hill, passing people like they were standing still, calling early so I didn’t frighten them. My bike felt like it was part of me and I grinned and whooped. Unfortunately in my enthusiasm I chose a shockingly bumpy line into the creek crossing at the bottom of the farm track and bounced my chain off. Luckily I had enough speed to coast through the stream and spin my legs uselessly on the other side. Of course everyone I passed on the downhill streamed back past me as I fumbled with my chain. Ah well, more targets for the next bit of downhill.

I had so much fun on the second part of the course. I loved every second off it and I worked as hard as I could the whole time. I caught up with a few people who’d gotten away from me on the climb and managed to stay in touch with them as we got back on the dirt roads and climbed up the nasty pinch. Then the head wind hit, of course, but I was blasting along the smooth clay road. A group tucked in behind me, which amused me greatly. I’ve never been going fast enough at the end of a race to be drafted before. Luckily for me they were kind enough to return the favour and as we hit the climb back up to the paddocks near the start my legs felt great and I powered up the hill dropping both the chick and the guy who were with me. I was shocked but pleased. Up ahead I could see a woman in blue and I wanted to catch her very badly.

Down the paddock I went, in my big ring, pedalling my lungs out. She was still riding really strongly and was also speeding down the paddock. Slowly but surely I reeled her in and popped out onto the gravel road slightly ahead of her. Then I pedalled with everything I had. I flew up the wee incline on the seal and pounded down the road, through the intersection at 50kph and then down to the entrance to the domain. I smashed it into the grass shoot and collapsed over my bars at the end as the man with the wire cutters removed my timing chip. I was dizzy and my legs felt like jelly, probably a sour lime flavour. I stumbled through the various tents and collapsed on the ground, completely wasted and stoked. I’d finished in 1:50:19, 9 minutes faster than the last time I did this race. I was 9th in Intermediate women and I cursed my olderness, as if I was still a sprightly 34 year old I would have been 3rd in Open Women with that time. Still I was faster than 50% of the field and more than 50% of the intermediate woman and I am so happy with that. It was a great day for me and reminded me why I love racing so much. It’s not about winning for me, I’m unlikely to ever win a race, it’s about beating myself year after year. The only person I want to be better than is me in the past and racing lets me measure if I’m able to do that. One more race to go before I take a month off the bikes and try and heal my injuries completely. 2.5 laps of Living Springs for our club champs, it’s going to hurt me a lot, but I’ll enjoy every minute of it.

Mt Somers – In it for the Grins

My favourite race of the year rolled around on Sunday. The Mt Somers Classic. This race has now been running for 4 years and I’ve been in three of them (I was going to say competed, but I’ve really only competed in 1 of them). This was my first "race" back from my broken elbow and with the grand total of 5 weeks of riding after 3 months of complete inactivity while my elbow healed under my belt I was only entering the Recreational Grade this year. Luckily for me I wasn’t the only one keen for a bit of a laugh at Mt Somers and I had plenty of company for my pootle along the farm tracks and back roads of Mt Somers station (which are really gorgeous).

Strangely enough I was still quite nervous the morning of the ride, but the drive to Mt Somers with Appetite for Destruction blaring loudly from the speakers, to drown out my Axle Rose impressions, sorted my butterflies out. Heavy fog descended on to the Canterbury Plains just outside Rakaia, but this year I wasn’t too worried because it was like that last year and it cleared by the time we got to Mt Somers. This year was even better though. We burst out of the fog into bright sunshine and clear skies, it was a stunning day. How I wished I was fit, the ride up the hill would have been well and truly worth it with such beautiful clear vistas as a reward.

The posse crossing

As usual the organisation was absolutely top notch, with marshals stationed on all the approach roads and junctions around the township to make sure no one got lost. We parked up and I donned my wings. Yep, you read that right. I decided a few weeks ago that if I wasn’t fit enough to take the race seriously, then I really wasn’t going to take it seriously and decided to live up to my namesake and dress as Tinkerbell. I think you’ll agree I make a charming fairy!

It was rather amusing checking my bike in full regalia and having the man from the car next to me ask if I’d lost a bet. "Nope," I told him, "I’m just a bit special!" I managed to lose my husband right before the race, but I found my crew of Vorbettes (and Thorg) and we made our way to the start line. The usual Mexican waves were carried out and then the Experts were off, and then the Intermediates were off. Finally we were off. Surrounded by children, winding back and forwards and up the first gentle hill. I quickly realised that the 2 laps of McLeans on my singlespeed the previous day, while very fun, were not the best idea when your legs are as feeble as mine, but not to worry. I was a fairy and would be flying most of the way! Down the first wee descent on the road I passed a few little kids and could hear them say "Look, there’s a fairy!" It made looking like a fool completely worthwhile.

The sun was warming and the sleeping was good.

The race went well. It was great to be chatting with friends, playing silly buggers, going brrrraaaapppp, brap brap, down the hills and generally having a laugh. I discovered on one of my favourite downhill sections that fairy wings actually provide significant wind resistance, so they won’t be the go for night racing. Physically I really gave it everything I had (cause there wasn’t much to give), pushing hard on the downhills and spinning the up hills. The steepish gravel road climb that seemed so easy last year was bloody tough this year, but I was determined to ride everything, especially after making the river crossing, even though there were people walking all around. The lovely sweet_p on her singlespeed put a big gap on me and scatter, who was a great support, up the last hill, but as the track pointed down we reeled Dirtdiva back in and the three of us put the chase on to get back on her tail. Back on the road the three of us wer all in the big ring, riding aggressively (ha ha!) and managed to whizz past sweet_p and thorg just before the hill dropped down into the town. Woooooshhhhh, through town (again fantastic marshalling keeping the intersection clear for the riders) and then into the long grass of the finish shoot. Dirtdiva 11th, Scatter 12th, Tinkerbell 13th, Sweet_p 14th, and Thorg 3rd(burglar!). Then we all had a fantastic feed, thanks to the wives for bringing a plate, and chilled out in the sun watching the more competitive among us come home.

Post race nutrition is important! 20 tiny chocolate muffins are great, especially if all eaten at once

As usual the atmosphere was fantastic, laid back, but well organised. And best of all the proceeds of the race go to charity, with over $50,000 raised in the last 3 years. I will be back next year and back on track to reach my goal of a top 5 finish in the intermediate race. The one thing I’ve learnt from yesterday is that a race doesn’t have to be all about winning, or placing or beating anyone. If you’re surrounded by friends and equally silly individuals a race doesn’t even have to be technical or hard to be fun. The grins are why I race and they are still to be had even when you’re not very fit at all.

Dirtdiva's socks are why she's so fast

PS - Thanks to scatter for the title!

A stock-take for Easter

For many many years Easter has been a bit of a non-event for me in the traditional scoffing of stupid amounts of chocolate bunnies and eggs way. This is because of an initial traumatic Easter experience when I was about 6 and then a conclusively horrific Cadbury’s factory incident in 5th Form (when I was 15 for those of you who don’t understand old school). This Incident involved a bus load of 15 year olds let loose in the reject egg room and told we could eat as much as we liked, but couldn’t take any chocolate out of the room with us. Add to this a 3 hour bus ride on very windy roads and I think you can guess the result. This one Incident scarred my tastebuds and stomach so comprehensively that to this very day I can’t eat Cadbury’s chocolate. In fact until last year I didn’t eat chocolate very often at all. Say once or twice a year! “My god, that’s unnatural!” I hear you say. Well maybe. But since marrying my beloved husband that has changed. He is a lolly monster and is capable of ingesting amounts of sweets and chocolates that would make mere mortals vomit. Copiously. Because of this there are often chocolates in the house. Early on in the relationship this was fine. I didn’t like chocolate after all. And then came the fateful day when the block of Whittakers Dark Chococlate with Orange came into the house. It even smelt good. It all came crumbling down. Over fifteen years of freedom from the tyranny of chocolate undone by that delicious dark goodness. Still I tried to tell myself that I still didn’t like chocolate, but there is no going back. So this Easter has been the first in many years when I have enjoyed the ample supply of chocolate eggs and bunnies that I’ve been missing out on. With this high calorie chocolate diet I decided it was important to do some biking and to really try and work out where I’m at now, both confidence and fitness wise.

My first goal, a hill climb. I haven’t been on a hill since I broke my elbow so I was feeling quite apprehensive. I decided on Rapaki as I knew it was freshly graded and should be a nice smooth start for someone as unfit as me. My goal was to get to the top, and hopefully only stop once or twice. Admittedly we cheated a bit by parking halfway up Rapaki Rd. Still I dropped into my granny ring and spun up and things felt pretty good. OK. This will be doable. I was a little concerned about the burning in my thighs by the first cattlestop, but decided that was just my lazy legs trying to get out of it. The 4wd track was S-M-O-O-T-H, no bumps whatsoever. This did mean there was a new hazard to be avoided. In addition to the usual runners and walkers there were now a large number of tiny dogs. Riding near tiny dogs is always slightly worrying as you never know what they’re going to do, and when you’re crawling up a hill at 4.5kph there’s not much you can do to avoid falling off if they take it into their crazy little heads to run under your wheels. Fortunately there were no small dog acting crazy situations and I spun up to where the climb plateaus out feeling really surprisingly good.

In fact I was feeling so good I re-evaluated of my goals for the ride. Now I wanted to get to the top without stopping and get there in under 45 minutes. My fastest recorded time up there last year was 32min 35sec so that seemed a realistic goal. Also the first few times I’d gone up there it took over 50 mins so it would be good to be better than that. Down the wee descent before the big final climb and I headed to the only rough bits on the track just to see how the bike felt with a bit of speed over the rough stuff. It felt pretty good. A bit weird, but good. Then I was into the last bit of the climb. Bleurgh. I wasn’t really up to chatting with my ever patient husband who had cruised up with me to this point so I told him to go for it and I’d spin up as best I could. And I was very pleasantly surprised with how well it went. In fact with the end in sight I decided I wanted to get to the top in under 42 mins and put a burst of speed on! I made it to the top in 42mins and 4secs (but that included some time on the road) and was stoked. I was definitely puffed, but I felt really good and for a first ride up a hill it couldn’t have gone better. Then came the descent. Oh yes, it was good. I was even popping little hucks of the few rocks in the track. It felt so good to go fast again. I felt balanced on the bike and completely in control. It made me want to head back to Vic Park and play on Sesame St, but common sense will prevail and I will wait till I’m stronger.

Easter goal number one – hill climb. Check

My other goal was endurance. I’m definitely doing the recreational race at Mt Somer’s next weekend. Its 20kms long and the furthest I’ve managed to ride so far is 16km on the road and 13km on the dirt. I wanted to make sure I could actually still ride 20km. So hubby and I headed to the sandpit for 2 laps. Last time I was there I couldn’t even do a full lap of the inner loop so doing over twice that was going to be a challenge. Hubby set off on his singlespeed with the agreement that he’d ride with me when he lapped me. I tried to start more conservatively than my usual all or nothing starts that leave me gasping after one small section. I sort of managed it. I’m definitely getting the hang of my new arm position and felt more balanced on the bike and was able to push the bike through the corners more. Also I did a few more jumps and they all went well.

I feel an aside is important here, just to reassure those of you who are currently reading this and thinking I’m insane to be doing any sort of jump after Christmas. Well, the “jumps” in Bottlelake are very very small, the kind of thing you’d be happy let your small child play on. The ones I broke my elbow on were proper, bigger jumps that required some skill (which I obviously didn’t have) to do well. I will not be trying to do that sort of jumping in the near future, please be reassured.

Where was I? Oh yes, little jumps. The little jumps actually felt better than they had before my crash. I felt really balanced and loose on the bike and seemed to hit them perfectly. This did my confidence the world of good. By the end of the first lap, yes I managed to do a whole lap, I was hurting, particularly in the legs. I decided that I might have to do a reduced length second lap, but I’d see when hubby caught up (which should be soon) before deciding. I was using my gears a lot more in the second lap, but I kept going and even managed to get up the nasty nasty pinch in the middle (just) and just kept going. No short lap for me. I came here to do 2 laps and I would do 2 laps. By the end my legs felt completely spent, but I did it. 26kms and my hubby didn’t lap me. He did manage to do 3 laps in only a little more time than it took me to do 2, but hey, I’ve got a broken arm. Despite feeling physically ill I was stoked to have ridden more than double the distance I managed last time and now feel quite happy that I can at least complete the race next weekend before the prize giving starts.

Easter goal number two – endurance. Check

All in all, a very satisfying regaining of much confidence. Now I’ve just got to get my outfit for the race sewed up and it’ll be all go for next Sunday. I can’t wait.

Recovery, not just a frolic through the daisies

As I write this I have a little voice sitting in the back of my head reminding me that it could be worse, after all it is only my elbow that causing me difficulties. To see a real injury, go get the latest issue of NZMTBR and check out Sheryl McLeod’s xray! She is one lucky lady! I have good friends who have had much worse injuries than my elbow and have come back fighting fit and strong and more determined.

Despite this knowledge that I’m actually very lucky, I’m struggling at the moment, both physically and mentally. I love being back on my bike, it still brings a huge smile to my face, but it also makes me a bit sad. You see, it’s really hard to ride at the moment. I’m so unfit that riding to work is a struggle. Last night we went for a ride at Bottlelake. Yay! I sensibly took my bouncy bike, even though I hate taking it there because the sand is so bad for the bike. I’m glad I did, I needed my gears. And even with my gears it hurt my lungs a lot and I couldn’t do a full lap. That made me sad, I used to be able to 2 or 3 laps on my singlespeed and still hold a conversation at the end. The most disturbing part was that later in the evening I realised it wasn’t just surface tiredness (if you know what I mean) I was really deep down tired. My legs hurt like they used to after a race. Logically, I know this is normal, but mentally it’s actually quite hard to get my head around. Three months ago: fit, strong, confident, balanced; I could ride for a long as I wanted, where I wanted. Today: unfit, weak, regaining confidence, wobbly; I struggle to ride for 40 minutes and know I can’t ride in the hills yet.

This recovery is much harder mentally than last year when I made the decision to try and get fitter and better. Every bit of progress I made felt like a huge leap forward. Every ride seemed to hold new challenges and milestones. And while its true that every ride is full of challenges and milestones for me now, they are all old challenges and milestones and I really don’t get the same fantastic (and addictive) feeling of conquering something new.

Relearning to ride my bikes isn’t actually much fun. With my currently bung arm not really straightening much I’m very lop-sided on the bike. The more I try to straighten it, the more it hurts and then I start unconsciously dropping my right shoulder. From there everything is out of whack. I am getting better at focusing on keep my arms and shoulders more balanced, but it is pretty disconcerting how loose the front end of the bike feels at the moment with my uneven position. The jury is still out on the road bike, my first ride this morning was not the most successful ride I’ve had recently. Nice and fast, but very painful. Need more core strength and a different stem I think.

It’s not all bad news though. Last night I did a tiny little huck, but a huck all the same. It felt good. Real good. Riding through the rough stuff and letting my bike float through it felt good. Pushing the bike through the corners felt good. Being out with friends in the setting sun on my bike felt good. Not feeling my sit bones felt good (every ride has been rather uncomfortable recently as my butt has got soft in more ways than one). So my confidence hasn’t gone, which is a huge positive. When I’m riding I hardly ever think "Oh no, what if I fall off", which is good because once you start thinking like that you tend to fall off. I just need to be less impatient I guess. Of course it will take time to get back to where I was before the crash, but dam it!, I don’t want it to. I’m prescribing my self more regular sandpit rides, more bike maintenance (I’d forgotten how much I enjoy working on my bikes) and more swimming. I’m doing a recreational race on the 19th of April and I do not want to be last!

Who said I could walk?

After my initial enthusiasm to be back on the bike, the resultant achy sore elbow convinced me that maybe I shouldn’t be getting so excited and riding 3 days in a row just yet. However with my appointment with the surgeons at the hospital on Monday and my physio giving me some weight lifting exercises (no I’m not learning the Clean and Jerk) I decided this morning would be a good morning to commute by bicycle again. It hurt my elbow less and the rest of me slightly less than last time so maybe there’s hope for doing the recreational race at Mt Somers on the 19th of April after all. I’ve sensibly realised that barring an intervention by supernatural powers I just won’t be up to the sport race. 20 fairly flat kilometres should be doable with a month of preparation.

In the meantime I’ve been doing more swimming and my hubby and I headed over to the West Coast for the weekend to do a bit of walking about in the bush. We had fantastic weather and did some lovely walks, and I discovered that the muscles you use for biking are not the same as the ones you use for walking and that my walking muscles didn’t know what hit them. I was hobbling round like an old woman on Saturday night! Luckily a couple of Monteiths sorted me out nicely.

We did a really gorgeous 3 hour return walk up the Pororari River, spotted some birds and stick insects, threw stones in the river, and generally had a lovely time. That night we got eaten alive by sandflies watching the sun set at the beach a couple of minutes walk from the bach we were staying in. Little buggers. It wasn’t until we got back to Christchurch that I felt the full force of their itchy menace.

Being on the Coast was very inspiring and I have a number of poems brewing away in the back of my mind, including one about the fantastic wekas that frequented our accommodation, cheeky sods. Much amusement was had from watching them sneak into the house and chase each other round outside. Silly chickens.

The second day we stopped in Arthurs Pass and did more walking, which once more left me crippled. Ahhhh, the staggering around after another 2 ½ hours of walking, so amusing to my unsympathetic husband. I did enjoy being in the bush though and despite the sandflies I’m really keen to head back over for more exploring. However this might not be such an easy thing to do in the future as I’ve made the big decision to commit to doing the Alpine Epic. I’ve lined myself up a coach, the lovely Andrew from Hub Cycles, my local bike shop. Now I just need to be able to ride for more than 30 minutes without feeling sick or my arm wanting to fall off and I’ll be away. It’s going to be quite a challenge, but I’m looking forward to really seeing how far and hard I can push myself.

PS: I'll put up a few photos from the trip at the weekend

I can ride my bike!

Yes, that’s right. I’ve been for an actual ride, on my actual bike, outside!!! It was a beautiful sunny day today and when I got up there was no resisting the lure of my squishy bike. Also my physio made a very surprising off-hand comment along the lines of why are you not riding your bike yet? Aha!!

Being a very sensible lass, despite evidence in this very blog to the contrary, I decided to ride on the road on my squishy bike and make it a relatively short, easy ride. It has been 69 (tee hee) days since I last rode my bike outside after all. I got off to a wobbly start and one thing was immediately apparent. I need to relearn how to position myself on my bike. My left arm straightens and my right arm doesn’t. This means that initially I actually found myself pulling to the left. I quickly adjusted my left arm to match my gammy right arm. This was good, my new position is actually a much better riding position. The problem is that my left side doesn’t know that yet and so after cruising along for a while I’d find myself all lopsided again. This meant that while my elbow was pretty much fine with the whole ride, my right wrist and shoulder, which were trying and failing to compensate for my bendy arm, were pretty sore.

I know you are all dying to know how much fitness you lose after 69 days of pretty much no exercise. Well, the answer is all of it, and then some. My blog is almost exactly a year old so now would be a good time to recap. My goals were:
1. Lose 10kgs by November 2008
2. Complete the Molesworth Muster in 2008
3. Lose 15kgs in a year
4. Be competitive in the Sherwood Enduro 30km race and the Mt Somers race
Goal number 1: Fail!
Goal number 2: Succeed!
Goal number3: Comprehensively fail
Goal number 4: Ahahahahaha!

I did manage to lose about 6 kgs during 2008 and I am very proud of completing the Muster, but since breaking my elbow all hopes of being competitive, or even competing in races for the next few months has gone out the window. I went for a 14km ride on the road on my squishy mountain bike and it just about killed me. Mainly because I went out and attacked the little rollers like I’ve been riding every day like I used to. I felt very sick after about 7kms and decided that maybe just maybe I’d gone a bit too hard, but also that stopping near a piggery is not a good idea.

So I’m thinking it could be a bit more of a mission than I initially thought to complete the Mt Somers race on the 19th of April. In fact I’ll have to see how commuting goes next week because 14kms on the road isn’t very far. Don’t get me wrong though, I am SO HAPPY to be riding again. Driving to work and back every day has been horrible. I hate driving to work, even in bad weather. I’ve been getting a little bit of a jealousy thing going on when I stop at the lights and 5 or 6 happy carefree cyclists pull up beside me, enjoying the summer sun and the ever present close-call adrenalin. No more car for me now and hopefully in a couple of weeks my arm will be up to the road bike too. So stay tuned for future goals, there might be some biggies!

The Longing

My dear readers (all 3 of you), I am feeling dispirited. I have been to the hospital this morning to see how my bones are healing and while they are healing extremely well it will be 6 MORE WEEKS before I can ride a bike outside. This is terrible news.
Riding on a wind trainer when it is hot is awful and to be honest I really can’t be bothered with it. I get little or no enjoyment from it, more a grim sense of satisfaction that I’ve done my duty. I miss the pleasure of being out in the countryside, up on the hills, in the fresh air and sunshine. I miss hanging out with my mates talking for hours about how great our bikes are, what a great ride that was, I can’t believe I finally nailed that section. I miss shuttling, flowing down the hill, being really scared and excited, pushing my boundaries. I miss cleaning my bike after a long dusty ride. I miss whizzing through trees and doing little hucks. I miss riding with my lovely husband and pushing hard to keep up. I miss the solitude that isn’t lonely cause you’re with your bike and that’s all you need. I miss adrenaline and endorphins. I miss being muddy and dusty and sweaty. I miss the speed.
I miss the intangibles as well. I long to be on my bikes, I feel like I’m missing out. Like I’m that kid that doesn’t get picked to play and watches from the sidelines while everyone else is laughing and having fun. Every day its sunny I know people are out riding their bikes and I’m not. I’ve endured a winter of riding on the road, in the rain, against the wind, in the dark. This summer was meant to be my reward.
I’ve been trying to get my head around 6 more weeks of feeling like this and I just can’t. It Is Not Possible To NOT Ride For Six More Weeks. Unfortunately I don’t know what to do to overcome this. More Calcium tablets (I have been a bit slack in taking them)? More Panadol and more exercises? More wind trainer rides (I don’t know if I can). Right now I’d just like cake, lots and lots of cake. Fortunately I don’t have any cake (or cake like treats) available and I can’t bake to save my life so at least I shouldn’t end up the size of a whale. Well at least not a Blue Whale. Maybe a Minke Whale, or a Narwhal. That’d be cool, kind of like the unicorn of the sea….
Oops I digress. I’ve just checked my calendar and if the doc’s say I can ride on the 23rd of March I’ve still got a good 3 weeks to train for the Mt Somers race. For that to be a realistic goal I really need to get motivated about my bloody trainer again. So how do I do this? I’ve tried TV and I’ve tried training DVD’s. I’ve got a fan set up, but when it’s above 30 it doesn’t seem to help. Gah!
Anyway, thank you all for indulging my self-piteous whine (oh, my favourite shoe shop has also closed so that’s made me really grumpy also). I promise that it will be the last one for a while. I’m off to look at the biscuits in the tearoom.

Bionic Woman

Better, stronger, faster. Well I’m none of those things at the moment, but I do seem to be healing pretty well. Last week I was back at work doing half days, which was pretty tiring, but I did manage a couple more rides on my trainer. I also had a couple of doctor’s appointments and finally found some information out about how long I’ll be in my robo-arm and what sort of stuff I can be doing. The best bit was I got to see my metalwork, I have lots of stuff in my elbow. More importantly I got a referral to physio (more on that later).

My lovely man has splashed out and bought me a new computer for my roadie which measures cadence (RPM) and brought me home some intense training dvds for me to play with while I’m stuck riding inside (thanks Paul). Unfortunately I’m not really up to putting in a proper training effort and can only handle the warm up session before I’m exhausted and needing a lie down. Feeling like a nana isn’t the best, but at least I can do something. Still it gives me some good goals to work towards so I’m enjoying it.
Further excitement occurred at the weekend when I got out of the house!! Shock horror. We drove out to Omihi in North Canterbury and helped get the Vulcaniser course ready for the race this weekend. I was intrigued to see how I would handle walking up and down hills for a few hours and amazingly I handled it pretty well and only had to rest a couple of times on the return journey. On top of that encouraging progress I discovered I’ve really got a knack for sticking pig-tails in the ground. Such a useful skill.

It was fantastic to get out and do something bike related with a really wonderful group of people, even if it did make me a little sad that I couldn’t have a ride on the fantastic track myself. After all that fresh air (and gale force winds) I was pleasantly tired out and finally had a decent nights sleep. Yay.

This morning I had a physio appointment at the hospital, just what I’ve been waiting for. It went fantastically and the news from the physio was all good. My range of movement improved massively while I was there and although it hurt like hell I was grinning the whole time. It turns out the information I got from the doctor last week was also wrong. So now I have to take my brace off at least 3 times a day and practice straightening and bending my arm, I have to take it off in the shower, I have to take it off if I’m just watching TV. Yeah baby, I am so happy about that. My mood was further improved with the news that I should be able to be out on my bike in about 6 weeks. Hmmmmm, maybe Mt Somers is a realistic goal after all. So all in all, things are progressing extremely well and I’ll be back riding to work in no time. Driving really does suck a lot.