The Final Countdown

"I guess there is no-one to blame

We're leaving ground (leaving ground)

Will things ever be the same again?

It's the final countdown"

Memories of Friday evenings spent at Blue Light Discos (oh! How I envied Sally Bell's blue eyeshadow) with 80s music blaring, trying to pretend I was cool occasionally make me giggle. How some things have changed (I no longer have an irrational desire for blue eye-shadow) and how much I have remained unchanged (pretending to be cool remains a skill I am yet to perfect).

In the present-day and on a slight tangent, there is one thing I am glad that I had changed. I am so thankful that I had taken up the advice to convert the old roadie wheels to tubeless. And thankful for Stan and Joel at Monkey Wrench for making it happen a couple of weeks ago. An enormous nail puncturing my rear tyre on Saturday morning highlighted this for me. After yanking the nail out and letting the stans do its thing all over Northbourne Ave, I was off and rolling again in less than 2 minutes. I would highly recommend converting any road training wheels to tubeless. If I wasn't sold before, I most certainly am now. It made my day. Just brilliant.

Nailed? Not if you're running tubeless.
No more sad, upside-down bikes by the side of the road.
Happy rubber-side down riding only!

Looking to the future and I suppose some things will never change. Such as a bizarre and somewhat frightening habit of entering an event, where on the day I find myself thinking: 'Roh-oh. What have I done!?' followed by a lame attempt at self-comfort: 'It's ok. You're ok...'. With less than 1 week to WEMBO I am hoping that I have done enough to stimulate some change within my physiology to somehow get through 24 hours of Stromlo. The enormity of the race stirs an emotion that is equal parts fear : excitement at the prospect of what may come. 

Too late to change my mind?

Omne trium perfectum

The Beginning

It might just be me, but have you ever noticed how much in this world can be divided into 3? Is this the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth or is the division a human attempt to categorise and define processes that in reality lie along a spectrum?

With a head full of 24 hour racing, a day can be broken into 3: morning, noon, night... For which you can have a 3 minute egg for breakfast, a 3 bean salad for lunch and round it all out with neapolitan ice-cream after dinner. As far as we know, at an atomic level we are divided into 3: an energetic buzz of protons, electrons and neutrons. Freud broke up our bizarre personalities into the id, the ego and the super-ego and there are blind mice, pigs, musketeers, bears and wise men galavanting around in 3s all over the place.

The past week has been a journey through 3 levels of physical wellness (or illness, depending on your perspective). From top of the world 'I feel amazing', back to the usual 'I'm doing my everyday riding thing' to the sickest I believe I have ever been 'will somebody please make it stop'. I have also had an opportunity to balance out one of the 3 pillars in my life: family and friends (the other 2 being sport and work). Enjoying the full spectrum of experience that life has to offer is a gift, often gratefully received in hindsight.

The Middle

The elation that follows from a good, hard race is amazing, and despite leaving you without much punch for a day or so (up to 3?) afterwards, the post-race glow is still worthwhile. The fall-out from the Kowalski Classic was typically that: heavy legs, able to keep up a tempo in the bunch, but only able to lift for 3 second efforts before going lactic. All-in-all, as expected with post-race recovery trundling along my usual timeframe.

The real twist came on Wednesday night. Finishing off a ride, feeling ok then very, very suddenly: not-so-ok. Whether it was food poisoning, a virus or demonic possession (the symptoms were all there), something had taken over and decided to play havoc with my immune system. In retaliation, my body decided that a whole-body cleansing, spring clean was in order. Somewhere, a big red button was pushed and I spent the night completing an extremely efficient abdominal workout and weight-loss program. The next day was dutifully spent drifting in and out of a hot and cold sleep, trying to get some fluids to stay put. If we were conceptualising wellness as a continuum, I was at least 3 standard deviations away from the mean.

Several days later I have returned to 'normality'. A happy place somewhere in the middle of that wellness bell curve. Dare I say, the timing was even not too bad: I was able to quite happily join my Grandpa (a legend, might I add) and a host of family and family friends in celebrating his 80th birthday in Sydney today. It was a lovely, timely reminder of the importance of family and of the people close to you in your life. Each holds a piece of your collective history and when brought together creates an image from a much bigger picture. Just brilliant.

The End?

Turning from the family pillar back to the sport pillar and we've not quite reached the end: it is now about 2 weeks before WEMBO. The revised course has now been published (here, if you're interested): a much more inspiring single-track heavy course than what was up previously and sadly, without quite as much climbing. Although perhaps this is one of those gifts that will be appreciated in hindsight, say at 11am on October 13th.

2 weeks and I appear to have begun my taper a little earlier than anticipated. My fingers and toes are crossed that this bout of illness will not have affected the riding too much and that I will be back and rolling within 3 shakes of a lamb's tail. Although, I'll put it out there: if anybody is willing to complete 3 hail Mary's for me or loan even a single wish from a bottled genie, that would be just perfect.

Playing 'Racer Girl' at the Kowalski Classic

"A learning experience is one of those things that says: 'You know that thing you just did? Don't do that'" (Douglas Adams). Thankfully The Kowalski Classic was one of those learning experiences where the brain says: "Ouch. Let's do that again!!"

The Kowalski Classic (full) is a 90km single-track heavy MTB race through Kowen Forrest and Sparrow Hill (Spowen) just outside of Queanbeyan, NSW. I was fortunate enough to be given an entry from Karen Lee Foat, who had decided she wouldn't race as she would only just have returned from travelling. Thanks Karen! With hefty cash prizes for podium places, the event attracts a sizeable Elite field of the 'who's who' in the MTBing world in both the male and female categories. Knowing this and also knowing this would also be the last race I would get to do before WEMBO, it was decided that I would step up and play Racer Girl for a day.

Not quite the answer to 'Life, the Universe and Everything',
but close: 5 hours in the red with an exertion-induced endocannabinoid high.

Racer Girl, like every other good, honest and hard-working Superhero has a skin-tight costume: the new Cox-Blackshaw kit arrived this week. Decked out in the most comfortable lycra, Racer Girl at least looked the part.

It turns out that Racer Girl has some super-powers: 

1) Can handle hypoxia: As evidenced by the ability to ride with a gel packet hanging out her mouth for several kilometers. We'll ignore that this is because she's too scared to take her hands off the bars in the single-track.

2) Blind luck: Seen bombing down a straight section of track, catching 'air' before landing nose first into one of the numerous muddy bog puddles collecting on track. Kept it upright.

3) Can freeze time: But only whilst riding uphill. Although some might argue that this is not such a cool super power.

4) Can refer to herself in the third-person. The same people might argue that this is not actually a super-power.

Despite the costume and super-powers, Racer Girl did not pull through to a final victory sprint across the finish-line, wheely-ing whilst slapping high-5s to adoring fans. She did get to ride with some of Australia's top female riders, putting in a solid race effort and have some fun whilst revving into the 'red zone'. An incredible learning experience: to put together all the little physical, technical and mental racing skills that have been picked up over the last couple of months and throw them into the mix in a race like Kowalski.

And I can't wait to race again... 3 weeks to WEMBO. "Don't Panic".

Wagga 6 hour: This one is about flowers

The greatest thing about mountain-bike racing is that first and foremost, it is not about racing.

Friday night brought with it rain and an un-inspiring skyline to Saturday morning in Canberra. It was like a pesky cold: not enough to knock you out 100% so you have an excuse to wallow in bed. Just enough to make you feel incredibly reluctant to get out, with a heavy dose of guilt for not being more excited about riding your bike on the weekend.

Enter the Mountain-bike Wagga 6 hour enduro. Camping gear gathered, car loaded, a quick 2.5 hour road trip to Wagga where the skies were blue, the weather warm and the spring flowers were out. A couple of practice loops revealed a fantastic course with a little bit of everything: fun, pinchy climbs (go on: blow the legs!); tricky switchbacks between trees (watch the handle-bars!); a SUPER fun downhill section with Luge-esque berms and steep gullys to fly through (fingers off the brakes!!).

'heaven in a wild flower'
Wagga 6 hour: A perfect camp-ground

With such an amazing course and great atmosphere, it was a little surprising to feel the residual cloudy Canberra cold at the back of my mind on Sunday morning. What do you do when you just don't feel like 'racing'? Answer: you embrace the culture. You don't stop but you take the time to smell the flowers and ride for enjoyment. You ride with 150-odd other people who love riding single-track as much as you do. You chat with people up the fire-trail and try to follow the wheels of people much more skilled than you down. You say 'hi!' and 'thanks!' to the SES volunteers as you barrel past and you high-five the juniors who have just finished their race mid-way through yours.

At $40 an entry, organised by the most lovely and passionate club, with a plethora of spot prizes, electronic timing, overwhelming support from the LBS's with a demo bike available from pretty much every major brand and the best trails, I can't believe there weren't more people there.

Thank you Mountain-bike Wagga: for bringing together and sharing everything that a mountain-bike race should be.

'Happiness held is the seed. Happiness shared is the flower'

Flying Ailuropoda melanoleuca

Question: What goes black, white, black, white, black, white?
Answer: a panda rolling down a hill.

Perhaps some context is required. The Ollo/Cox-Blackshaw team that has kindly taken me on board, that is covering my WEMBO race entry and all support has a weekly bunch road ride they have affectionately coined: "The Panda Run". The original kits were a schmick black and white, which I suppose is the source of the cute name. In any case, it has been a great week for the newest member of the "Pandas", despite a rocky start.

Panda and proud at STM race 3, Nowra (photo: Dave Bateman)

Question: What is black, white and red all over?
Answer: A panda learning how to ride a mountain bike.

The start of the week was looking grand: clear, sunny skies and the warmest start to Spring that Canberra has seen for a number of years, apparently. 'FINALLY!' has been the collective cry from the locals (well, from me at least), with the -3 degree mornings beginning to wear thin. Unfortunately, the beautiful and abrupt change in season has also morphed the local trails from hero-grip to dusty-slip. Washing out the front wheel on Tuesday brought that ride to a dusty, bruised and bloody end. Wednesday saw a repeat effort and a 'sad panda' limping home from Bruce. Any ego boost gained over the past weeks' riding efforts were squashed on Thursday morning with a lame topple, still clipped in whilst 'track-standing' at a set of traffic lights on Northbourne Ave.

Question: What did the panda say when she was forced out of her natural habitat?
Answer: This is un-BEAR-able.

The weekend was looming: and with it the final round of the Shimano MTB Grand Prix: Rocky Trail Entertainment's 7 hour series. Stromlo was the location and the course was a wicked fun loop taking in some techy, rocky climbing and loose, dusty descending. I know I've been riding pretty well on anything non-technical and flowy, but this course was going to suit somebody good at climbing, navigating rock-gardens, step-ups and with more than some skill with descents. Throw in a significant amount of traffic with around 300 competitors on the 8.5km course and slow-speed skills were going to be important too.

Question: What is black and white and goes round and round?
Answer: A panda caught in a revolving door racing a 7-hour XC at Stromlo.

Jokes aside, I will claim this race as one of my best.

The start was a complete schamozzle. A rolling down-hill start, straight into single-track meant a huge bottle-neck, and 'skating' the first 20m into Fenceline. I was able to lock onto Cath Kelaher's wheel and keep in contact throughout almost the entire first lap. Going up: no problems. Going down: she was gone. Through transition and into the first climb and I caught her again. We repeated that for a couple of laps before I decided that I needed to use my strengths: try to gain some time on her on the ups and hope like hell she didn't catch up too much on the downs. The original plan of racing 'conservatively' was well and truly out the proverbial window.

A couple of laps later and it seemed the little lead had stuck: looking over my shoulder I couldn't see her and I was hoping that being out of sight also meant being out of mind for any attempts to bridge. Now, was Liz (Smith) ahead or behind? I was fairly certain Cath and I were riding in position number 1 and 2 when I left her, but couldn't be sure there wasn't also a sneaky fast chick or two somewhere up ahead that I didn't know about. Also, I was cautiously navigating the descents, so was living in fear of being caught again. Onwards! A good tempo on the ups, power over the rocks, try to relax on the downs. Repeat.

Mid-race saw Andy Hall and new-comer Troy Herfoss cruise past up a fire-trail. Andy even friendly (!!) as he went past, asking how/where Ed was. Ed showed up a few laps later, having had some difficulties with limited passing and multiple stalling opportunities throughout the course. Having spent the last 2 weeks fighting the terrible flu that is making the rounds of the Canberra office-dwellers was not doing him any favours either.

8 laps in and I spied Liz heading up Wattle Happen as I was dropping into Old Duffy: I was at least half a lap up on her. And then the doubt creeps in: or was she half a lap up on me? Coming into my 12th lap, Belinda (Team Cox-Blackshaw manager, and enthusiastic supporter) and the entire Chamberlain family were there and able to tell me that I had a 20 minute lead on second place. Enough time for one more lap, two if I really pushed it. Having spent most of the race at threshold, I was happy to call it a day on 13 laps.

Presentations revealed a nice surprise: not only had I won the Elite female solo category, I'd also claimed the Tracey Robinson trophy for the fastest female lap time of the day and placed second in the series.

Question: How did the panda who mis-placed his dinner feel?
Answer: Bamboo-zled!

A surprising end to the week. Some confidence restored and a warm, tired, fuzzy (furry?) post-race glow to round-off a sunny Canberran Spring weekend.

On the little things and the humdrum of Life in general

This week my mind has debated over what pearls of wisdom should be immortalised in blog-form from the World According to Lize. Unfortunately while the topics have been wide and varied, the level of interest that I would attach to each from an outsider's standpoint is proportionately small. The little daily happenings that make up the sum of it all create a momentum that merrily hums along, rising and falling, but how much to share?

Falling

Do I blog about the fall-out from the last race at Nowra? The pain I had in my side that turned out to be some minor kidney damage, enforcing a 'rest week'? Hm, no. Expansion on that point is hindered by the fact that I do not want to unnecessarily concern family members and also that I am aware that one's own injuries are not always as interesting to others (trust me, I'm a Professional?).

Do I blog about the weather and the amount of WIND Canberra has had over the past week? No. Despite the knowledge that most of my cyclist friends will religiously check the bom (or Elders) each morning before rising, talking about the weather is the most basic form of communication and I will not drag this blog down that road on only my third post (I'll save it!).

Do I blog about the uni course I had on all weekend, for which I paid a ridiculous amount of money to be told how to poke at a neck? Yes, this did require 2 full, glorious sunny Canberra days (oops. Refer to previous paragraph) to be spent indoors. No, I think not.

Rising

Do I blog about the offer of a semi-sponsorship offer I received from Hammer Nutrition this week? Tempting, but I feel need more time to build up to advertising products via FaceParty and/or Twitter first.

Do I blog about the intangible Fun found on single-track at Bruce Ridge this week? The chasing of illuminated wheels through tunnels of white-light on tracks made tacky by over-night rain, hidden from the wind? On legs that work under a body that is refreshed, with a mind that has been given the ok to forget about the humdrum of Life in general and just Ride?

Ok.

SRAM Chocolate Foot Series round 2: Coondoo road, Nowra

Choc-o-late. Noun. 

1. A food preparation in the form of a paste or solid block made from roasted and ground cacao seeds, typically sweetened.

Foot. Noun.

1. The lower extremity of leg below the ankle, on which a person stands or walks.

Choc-o-late Foot. Noun

1. The foot a rider prefers to have in the forward position.

2. Associated with a series of 7 hour events across NSW with a high emphasis on single-track racing.

3. A treat found in the rego bag of afore-mentioned series.

The Chinese philosopher (that was not Confucious) Laozi once wrote: "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step". While the weekend just gone was not strictly the beginning of a journey, it was an important step. The previous week had seen the confirmation of my inclusion in the Ollo/Cox-Blackshaw team: a mainly road with a touch of MTB squad who are going to help with my entry fees and support at WEMBO in exchange for my attendance at their Thursday morning 'panda run' road ride and racing in the summer crits. Not bad for a punter like me. The week had also seen some nerves in anticipation for Round 2 of the Chocolate Foot series (apologies to those within my grump blast radius). There were some good, fast girls signed up to the 7 hour solo category and I wanted to have a real chance to 'race' rather than the past events where I have headed out and rolled around at my own pace. I wanted to take the next step... Or five.

Step 1: Start high up in the field.

These events have a mass, self-seeded start format, with racer-boys and girls aligning themselves behind Gumby on a fire-trail, several hundred meters downhill from the entry to the first section of single-track. Rolling down to the start I muscled in about 3-4 rows in, just ahead of where Liz Smith had set her tyres down. Perhaps a little cheeky, but from past experience I was also fairly confident that not many would pass me riding up-hill here so I was within my rights. Step one complete.

Step 2. Go out hard, take self into the red zone.

The race start was a good one for me: charging up the fire-trail, I spotted Cath Kelaher sneaking up on the left, so I jumped across and stuck to her wheel. Several laps in it was clear she was a good bike handler, but was conserving herself on the uphills. Coming around to an A-line and B-line section, she took the B and I was able to jump in front of her via the A. Keeping the pace up, half a lap later it seemed like a good idea to 'make an attack' (how #pro of me) up the fire-road into transition. Out the other side I kept the pace up, hearing somebody behind me, assuming it was Cath. Towards the end of the lap I realised it was one of the teams racers from On the Go. The acceleration had given me a decent lead and a stepped up HR.

Step 3. Recover whilst maintaining pace.

The other interpretation for the "journey of a thousand steps" quote is "thousand miles to be travelled, start with foot (placed) down" or when adapted for the minds of cyclists: "thousand miles to be travelled, keep rubber side down". At four hours in it was touch and go for how I was fairing, physiologically with the decision to keep the pace up once I knew I was ahead. Even when feeling somewhat ok, riding single-track can let you know if your concentration is wavering. Lap 8 saw some rolling in the dirt and some hugging of trees: time to back off the pace by a step.

Step 4. Practice nutrition strategies for WEMBO.

Every endurance athlete knows that keeping up adequate hydration and nutrition is step one for keeping fatigue under control and avoiding the dreaded Bonk. This race was the first time I'd used Hammer Perpetuem: I was after something that would fuel me, but wouldn't make me sick with too much of the sweet stuff. It seemed to do the trick, supplemented by electrolyte drink and a couple of gels. Step 4: tick.

Step 5. Only get lapped once by Ed.

Rolling into transition just before completing the 13th lap I thought I had almost gotten away with it... And then a familiar voice for the second time that day: "Eliza!!" Damn. 

There were 2 minutes left on the race clock, so I followed Ed out again for a 14th lap to seal the deal on first place. I'm happy to say it was a great weekend on a great course: flowing and fun and not too technical, some chocolate steps taken and some more lessons learned. And now looking towards a week of good recovery.