Rockwell Relay, Crew Report, Part 2: Against the Wind

After getting my picture taken with Fatty!, it was time for my crewing duties to begin. Really, I was just the support for the crew. Ranger Katie was doing all the hard work. Like number pinning. 

Love is pinning on a race number.

I am happy to say that my first duty I mucked up completely. Ranger Dave handed me two bottles and asked me to fill them. The only place that looked like it had water was a bathroom in the park, so I walked over there. The ladies bathroom was not busy at all (I wonder why!), so I turned on the sink and dumped out what I thought was the backwash from a previous ride. Instead of a slurry of old gatoraide and spittle came out a slightly orange powder! I should have known. Ranger Dave would never leave a swallow of water in a bottle when he put it away. He is way to particular for that. I had just dumped out one of his magical potions. Shit. Also, the water was not warm, not toasty. It was hot, and there was no cold option. Double Shit. I filled the now-empty bottle, and the other potion bottle and returned, hands burning, to the car.

R.D. wasn't too made about the potion, and even if he was, he was too busy to say anything. 

Before.

He gave us a list of groceries to pick up, told us about where to look for him for a bottle, and then he lined up with the rest of the dudes, and a few dudettes. The race started with a neutral start to get the group through Moab, so they rolled out slowly into a hot and windy morning. 

Apparently, this was the first year for three starting groups. The 6am group was supposed to be for the non-competitive teams. The 9am start was for the some-what competitive teams, and the noon start was for the fast people. It made for a less dramatic start, but it probably made good race-sense. 

After our errands were run and our coolers were full R.K. and I pulled out onto the course, passing racers and RVs and racers and RVs, looking for a ranger in white arm warmers. 

RVs seem really useful for this event.

Soon, we pulled over and waited for a water hand off. 

Mountains! Some still had snow, despite the heat of the morning.

And, that is what we did all through the stage. Drive, pull over, wait, hand off, drive pull over, wait, hand off. 

Pull over! Bananas thirsty.

Soon, we were getting used to spotting the group that was ahead of R.D. There was the big fast-sh group, with Team Fatty. Then, the green sleeves group. Then, the guy with no sunglasses. Then, the super tiny fast girl and her somewhat mannish lady-friend. Then, R.D.'s group. 

The headwind was demoralizing for sure, but I got to see a lot of scenery, and there were some pretty epic hand offs. 

Check out those moves!

And they are off!

Ranger Katie did get a couple questions about her Beaver-T. It was a spare that I had that says, "Swinger." It was for a friend of Emily R's but I never got it to her. (Emily R's friend--I owe you 14 dollars! Sorry!). I tried to convince R.K. that she should tell everyone a different story: I was a semi-professional golfer, I was the 1997 Miss Kansas Swing Dance Champion (if you have ideas, put them in the comments!).

Racers with strange beehive rock.

Lots of this scene.

Katie dashing to get a bottle. She's the best soigneur!

Later he would tell us how annoyed he was with the tiny gal for dropped all the big wind blocking dudes from their group.

I couldn't believe some of the beautiful landscape we were seeing, though I also couldn't imagine riding my bike through it. 

Then, before we knew it, we were just 4 miles from the end. So, we found the exchange, found the Jerks, and waited for R.D. to roll in. It didn't take long and they hit the hand off like champs.

After discussing the stage and strategy with the jerks, the R.D. commenced to his post-race recovery efforts. I should ask him to write them down for me. Some of the elements involved, though, are: remove shoes, apply compression socks and flip flops, drink cherry juice, drink Mexicoke, eat strawberry yogurt, change into civilian clothes, sigh, lay on back for a while, drink potion, sigh. 

All, totally understandably, because that shit looks hard! After relaxing in the park, and then packing up, we all got in the cars to head off to meet the jerks at the next exchange point.

After

Rockwell Relay: Crew Report, Part 1, Oh My Fatty!

So, plans change. Ranger Dave had been flirting with the idea of doing the Rockwell Relay, June 13 and 14. First he was probably going to do it. Then, probably not, and then, yes! He was going to do it!

On June 10th, the day I left Des Moines he emailed Ranger Katie and I detailed details on crewing duties. He was riding with three dudes from Salt Lake City, Team Jerked Around, so we would be crewing just for him. 

Okay, cool, so instead of leisurely driving across Oklahoma, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah, my new plan was to haul ass on Thursday to get to Moab. I wanted to crew for this race, bad! 

Why? Who wants to drive around with stinky, grouchy, hangery cyclists? Me! Not just because Ranger Dave is my favorite stinky-grouchy-hangery-cyclist (sorry Steven, you are rarely stinky). Nothing makes me giggle more than his exertion-induced sighs, but also, because I had read the Fat Cyclist's Epic Rockwell Relay race reports. These bad boys go on for weeks! And, they are so exciting. It sort of reminds me of reading a Dickens novel, the way they were originally published, in serial form in the newspaper, but instead of Dickens it is awesome, funny, geeky cycling stories!

Maybe, I would get to see Team Fatty! Maybe I would get to eat one of the brats he gives out the night before the race! Maybe I'd be able to write my own Rockwell Relay race report! Eee!!!

I did stop, briefly, in the other Des Moines.

That excitement powered me through western Oklahoma, north eastern New Mexico, all of southern Colorado, and eastern Utah. Alas, I didn't arrive until 8:30 on Thursday, so I all I could do was polish off Ranger Katie's pad thai (thanks!) and hit the hay. 

In the morning, Ranger Katie and I packed up and headed over to the spot where we'd me the other Jerks Around--a restaurant called Love Muffin (yes!). We chatted over coffee and breakfast until the jerks arrived. Then, we headed to the park where the race would start. 

As we were watching Ranger Dave mix his potions and don his speed suits, I noticed a sprinter van pull up two cars behind us. The side door opened and out stepped a svelte blonde: The Hammer. My heart started to hammer. Then, a bald guy stepped out. Oh. My. God. Fatty!

"Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie....will you come and take my picture?" She had been warned, and so she obliged. 

Fatty + Beaver!

Heart in my throat, I approached Fatty and asked for a picture. There was some awkward turning around because of the intense morning sun, but thankfully Katie got a few good shots. I said thanks, and Heather said, "oh we can't take him anywhere." Awkward laughing. Then, I scrammed, not wanting to get in the way. He usually takes the first leg of the ride, so I didn't want to sabotage.

Later during the pre-race meeting, I was surprised to see Kenny all suited up. And, he was wearing a homemade-t-top-fatty-jersey and a long braided goatee. Pretty ragbrai-core if you ask me! I snapped a sneaky picture while I pretended to listen to the race-dude. 

This guy should be on ragbrai

I saw them throughout the day and into the night. And, now, that the relay reports are coming out, I keep homing to spy myself or Team Beaver in one of the pictures. So far, nothing, but I am satisfied with my brush with fame! 

Note: I did make a super bone-head move and say something like, "oh, you're a semi-celebrity." Geez. If I don't make an ass of myself in front of my heroes, I am not living.

A Walk Through the Valley of Walmart

At work this summer we were challenged to keep track of our walking, running, and/or cycling miles (they say "biking" ugh). The goal is to hit 100 miles of walking, 250 miles of running, and/or 500 miles of cycling. I am working on the walking, thinking it will get me out with Ms. H more, and the cycling, because, well, duh. 

On Tuesday the 10th of June, with a car loaded with gear and a heart sad to say good bye to my puppy, I left Des Moines for a whirlwind adventure. My plan was thus:

• 6.10 Drive to Arkansas and spend the night with my parents. 
• 6.11 Drive across Oklahoma and spend the night with my other parents.
• 6.12 Drive halfway to Utah, camping in New Mexico-ish.
• 6.13 Drive to Bryce Canyon
• 6.17 Drive eastward to somewhere cool in Utah.
• 6.18 Drive eastward to somewhere cool in Colorado.
• 6.19 Drive to Longmont, Colorado. Hang out.
• 6.21 Brewery 100. 
• 6.22 Hang out.
• 6.23 Drive to Des Moines. 

Things did not go completely according to this schedule, as you will see. 

Anyway, I arrived in Arkansas just in time for bourbon and lobster-mac-and-cheese (because, why not?). My mom took the next morning off, and I thought we were going to take a bike ride before I headed out to Oklahoma. 

Eat your heart out, Emily!

But, my mom didn't want to take a bike ride. In fact, I have the sneaking suspicion that she actually prefers running. In fact, she has signed up two years in a row for ragbrai, and for two years in a row, she has decided not to do it. This year, she will learn that it is way more work to be the driver than a rider, as Masinga will testify. 

Instead of going for a bike ride, we did go for a nice walk. My parents live near Bentonville, Arkansas, home of Wal-Mart! And, Wal-Mart money opened one of the nicest collections of American Art in, well, America. It is called Crystal Bridges (which sounds like a stripper name--so Arkancore). C.B. is set in a nice little valley with a huge expanse of trails, public art, and gardens, so we walked around there. 

Portrait in Green

It was chilly, but muggy, so a tshirt was fine. I tried to embrace the humidity because I knew I'd be saying goodbye to that for a while. We goofed around in the park, founds some cool art, then relaxed under this weird bucky ball sculpture. 

Then, we went for crepes. 

Then, I drove to Oklahoma. 

Nice work, ladies!

Later that week, my parents would rock the Springdale Health Fest. Dale and his friend conquered the 50-mile bike ride, and my mom and her friend set PRs and placed in their age-groups in the 5k.

Coming in hot!

Adventures Galore

So, there I was, hanging out in the ranger ghetto at Bryce Canyon, watching America Ninja Warrior and drinking a beer, when Ranger Dave looks over from his reclined position on the love seat and says, "about time for a blog update."

Geez! I am on vacation, people!

But, he is right, it is about time for a blog update, and after 3,600 miles of driving, 10 states, 3 canyons, 5 epic bike rides, I have a lot of stories to tell. And I am somewhere between being super uber giddy about relaying all my adventures and all my oh-my-gosh-only 24 days until ragbrai excitement, I can barely type. 

So, in an effort to stay organized, and to wet your whistle, here is a preview of forthcoming blogs. 

• A Walk Through the Valley of Walmart!, Arkansas and the Deb
• Rockwell Relay, Crew Report
• 3 Bike Rides in Bryce Canyon
• Canyonlands Hike--cause there are so many awesome pictures, not because it was that epic
• Black Canyon of Gunnison "hike"--again, gorgeous pictures
• Brewery 100 5.0!!!
• And, why I am (most likely) not doing the Copper Triangle (whooo....spoiler)

Operation: Oh Shit

I have an announcement to make. And it's pretty hard to admit. It probably won't come as a shock to anyone who has been around me on a daily basis, but to be honest, it kind of surprised me. 

I am super, duper fat right now. What the hell?!

You'd think that this wouldn't be that surprising, since, you know, I live in my skin, but it just didn't really register. 

I was weighing myself weekly until spring break. I didn't weigh myself from March 12 until, oh, well, May 21st. Not good news. 

Looking back, I haven't actually gained that much from my March 12th date, like 4 pounds, but the number, painfully close to my pre-Juice number, came as a shock. An additional shock came on June 1st when I weighed myself again and was up another two pounds! 

It's weird, because, I had been working out pretty regular-like from January through May. Golide and Masinga and I were hitting the gym about 4 times a week, and I have to say, I was feeling pretty fit. I felt good on the bike, like my muscles were getting bigger, and my back didn't hurt. After vacation, though, I knew something was amiss. Maybe all that Maine air made my clothes shrink?

I'll be honest, the reason I stopped weighing myself in March, was some pretty serious stress on the home front. And, it makes sense that my fitness and weight loss goals had to take a back seat. 

But, for now things have resolved themselves somewhat, and summer's here in full effect and ragbrai and the Copper Triangle are just weeks away, and I am looking around and thinking: oh shit. 

Double oh-shit when I saw my picture with Golide after she finished the Dam-to-Dam. She looked dam-sexy in her sweaty running clothes. I looked like I stuck a small child down the back side of my cycling shorts. 

Goldie: "Now, where is Sam hiding?"
Norman's rear-end: "Heh, heh, heh."

All of this lead to a spiral of stress and anxiety. The negative thoughts go marching to-and-fro:

• You've let yourself down!
• You've let the whole team down!
• You're not going to be able to do the Copper Triangle!
• No one will want to be friends with you. 
• You'll be left behind on the Brewery 100.
• You shouldn't go to Utah. No fatties allowed.
• You suck.
• Etc. 

So, I did what I had to do. I called Steven. She gave me just the right cocktail of tough-love and humorous kindness that I needed to pull myself out of the old pit o' wallowing. First, she was like, "your friends will still love you, no matter what." (Thanks guys!).

Then, she was like, "you know what you need to do."

In between she said a lot of helpful things too. 

And, I do. 

I need to lock it the fuck up.

So, from June 1st through July 23rd (when I leave for the ragbrai ride-out, 270 miles of solo touring, baby!), we are engaged in what we are calling Operation: Oh Shit! 

Which involves the following: 

• Lots and lots of bike riding
• Going to the gym for strength training with Goldie and Masinga
• Not eating so much crap!
• Not eating so much ice cream, specifically.
• Not drinking so much beer, either!
• Drink water!
• Lots more weigh ins to keep myself on track!

And, it's off to a great start. I've ridden my bike a hundred miles between Sunday and Monday. And, I even have a plan for some workouts I can do while I am on the road in the next couple of weeks. 

I'll keep you posted. Wish me luck!