MTB OBX style

Yes, it's true.  Tall socks are
a MTB uniform requirement

Today was fab.

Remember that time my son rode his MTB down a flight of stairs?

uh huh. 

True Story.

No pictures though, because I was coaching, but Hellz to the YEAH!

I’m proud of this kid.

Then we hit the trails around Buxton, N.C. which have sand patches in them that will shut you down in a hot second. BOOM. 

We rocked them.

We crashed through homes, leaving a trail of destruction in our wake that could only be rivaled by a 1950's Godzilla movie. Or, at least, that's how the spiders tell it.

With our faces and helmets coated in sticky thread, we burst out of the woods in the shadow of a giant, and we dropped into the Cape Hatteras Light House Welcome Center for a water refill.

A whopping 8.35 miles on the Kona I got from Richmond Bicycle Studio. Love this bike. And love how it gives me such an opportunity to spend time with my klingon.

This ride was a great experience for him, and for me to see it through his eyes.

 

In a 57 minute MTB ride he became elated, discouraged, tired, frustrated, and ended with a smile high on his second wind.  He never quit though, even when his bike came to a hard stop in a pocket of sand on the trail. He kept it upright, but I could tell how much he hated starting from a dead stop on a climb.

It reminded me, when I feel discouraged as I rehab my Achilles, I need to remember that becoming frustrated is not a reason to quit the process. Like a bad patch in a race isn't a reason to quit the event, it's a reason to press forward in the hopes that there might just be a second wind in me yet. 

Moments of frustration are just part of the road of life.

Or trail.

I guess it depends on where you are at the time.

Flying Pirates & missed opportunities

"it's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack
of  cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses ..."

Obviously anyone who follows my blog knows I've been unable to run enough this spring to get trained for a Half Marathon. The Half Marathon
was exactly 5 weeks and 2 days after my pneumonia diagnosis.... so... yeah, about that. I am out and about, and getting my fitness back one step at a time, but running 13.1 miles would have been a death wish.

All that drama didn't stop me from spending the weekend with a posse of giggling women who seem to appreciate mocking themselves as much as I enjoy mocking myself.

We went down to the race venue, picked up bibs at the surprisingly good expo, and admired the GIANT costume contest trophy.

I made eye contact with T right then, and I'm pretty sure we were thinking the same thing... well... I was thinking, "I wonder what it takes to win this hideous trophy..."

We drove the rest of the way down to the cottage and did some touristy things ... ok, ok, we did all 4 touristy things you can do at the beach this time of year.

1) We visited the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse.

2) Drive past a known Osprey nest to see if the birds are home (they weren't, sorry T, Kim & Erika)

3) Got our feet into sand and take a photo on the beach that should be an album cover for our next CD, which will be named "Hill Repeats" and the first single will be "Flat Sand Running", which will be UBER appropriate because I'm probably going to be off key. "We'll put the band back together, do a few gigs, we get some bread. Bang! Five thousand bucks." Blues Brothers

4) Admire the inappropriately young HOT surfers <~ seriously, this is actually an acceptable tourist activity.  holy carp....

Still, I think this is a post of Important Safety Tips:

Important Safety Tip: Check the race location in relation to the cottage you own before offering to host everyone for the weekend.  not that it was a major problem, but I thought the race was on the Manteo side of OBX, not on the Kitty Hawk side of OBX... right.... so after an hour and a twenty minute drive to the start I parked the car.

Important Safety Tip: When snuggling your friend in the porta potty line, make sure the guy behind you  understands you're joking when you tell her, "I don't know you but here let me hug on you". .. unless of course you want a hug from a RedShirt named Daniel. In which case, go ahead... #seriously #HuggedARedShirt

Important Safety Tip: Take a photographer with you on the cool parts of your MTB adventure... otherwise all the photographs will be of you MTB on PAVEMENT. I assure you, I had a wicked good time exploring the trails on the way to find the girls out on the course, and I am TOTALLY looking forward to MTB in OBX ASAP...

Important Safety Tip: Be a bad ass.... oh, wait. seriously though, I had a great weekend and pulled some ridiculousness, like cycling while spectating, taking photographs while cycling, and convincing another runner to take our photo while he was running...

And finally:

Important Safety Tip: If you're planning on running with us next year at this race, be prepared to share that hideous trophy for 1/5 of the year, because we are so going to win it.

Uh yeah. Cos that's how we roll.

I'd guess it's about 18" X 24"... maybe 30"

What to wear MTB in the WINTER

There is NOTHING I hate worse than being cold.
Except the trainer. I hate the trainer worse than I hate cold. I mean seriously, why would I want to sit on the trainer in my living room when I could sit on a super comfy MTB in the woods while snow falls on me?

But every week that I go to ride my sweet whip, I suffer with the same dilemma...

Gah! What do I wear?

"There are flurries drifting down, coating the grass like powdered sugar, but it’s actually going to be a balmy 37 degrees. That’s nearly 40! If this was running I’d be in a skirt."

Grrr. What do I wear?

"BUT this isn’t running, this involves a bike. It’s cold. It’s going to be a frigid 37 degrees! Do you have ANY IDEA of how COLD 37 degrees is on a BIKE? It is cold."

I recently read a blog that was the opposite of helpful, written by some a$$ dude who obviously thinks people ask these things because it’s a FASHION STATEMENT.

Thanks yo'.

You go ahead and talk about the lycra and #junk looking nice on our cute girly figures. Over here in central VA, I’m much more worried about not over or under dressing (shudder the thought) for a 20 mile MTB ride.

Unlike running, where you become warm very quickly and typically dress for 20 degrees cooler than the forecast temperatures, cycling is different.

On a road bike you dress for 20 degrees colder than the outside temp. This is because you make your own wind child. It’s awesome. I’m kidding. It’s horrible. I’m not a fan of having cold feet. Or cheeks. Did you know your chin can get so cold you can’t talk? DeNiece and I experimented with that earlier this winter season right before she put her bike in the garage where it has sat ever since.

But MTB is warmer than road cycling. The speeds are typically cut in half. Typically one is negotiating obstacles, so there are points when a MTB may be sitting still while the rider is sweating bullets with adrenaline PUMPING and heart POUNDING.

Also, the trees shelter the MTB riders, and on the road in VA there is relentless WIND that bites... metaphorically and metaphysically. 

So this weekend I wore wool socks, running tights over bike shorts, 3 layers on top, a camel back w/ H2O, a hat, gloves and a helmet... aaaaaaannnnnd, my toes were so cold at the end of the ride that they were white, and they turned purple when I revived them in a tub of warm water...

~speaking of things that sound awesome but are not~

so.

next time I will dress my feet like I am going road riding. And my tip would be, dress for 15 degrees cooler than the forecast. Or, if the temp is going to be 40, dress for running at 5 degrees. Or, put your bike on the trainer next to DeNiece's & TMBs.

because it sounded fun

I was talking about my weekend adventures and I got a good chuckle out of Hot Ironguy's response to my Sunday mileage:

"13 in the morning, and then another 31 in the afternoon?! WOW. What are you training for?"

It made me think...
What am I training for that required so much endurance this weekend...?
um, nothing.

I did it because it sounded like fun.

And it was fun. mostly.

To clarify:
The running was not fun. Yep, I said it. I am training for a (race) and the running was miserable. I felt sluggish and off pace. Oh wait, I was sluggish and off pace. 

The "other stuff" I did this weekend, i.e. the Kona adventures on Buttermilk & Belle Isle, and the Trek adventures on the roads that seemed to cover half of Virginia... well, they were fun.

When I was on the Kona, I felt free. I could do whatever I was capable of, and while that didn't exceed anyone's expectations, I knew there would be no self censure to come with the final results. Whatever speed I did would be enough, and besides, I expect to get dropped on the more technical aspects of the trail. After all, I've only ridden her a handful of times.

As for the Trek... well, that was the first time I've been on the road since Thanksgiving. I almost felt I could do no wrong. almost.

When I was on a bike, I was completely relaxed and enjoying the moment.
When I was on a run, I was not.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

I am a runner... right?

I think I need to figure out where my head is at right now so that I can be ready for my spring race.  As long as I do the miles, my body will be ready. But my head needs to be here, or the miles are going to suck. a freaking lot.

I never used to struggle to have fun. It used to just happen. Whether I was alone or in a posse, I could find a way to savor the miles of my training plan. That fun was how I knew my place in the world as a galactically bada** runner.

I need to get back to my roots. I need to remember how to relax and just be. Of course, the more I think about it, the less it will happen. By the way, I suspect that's true of a lot of things in life.

This week I'm going to get out with a buddy of mine who does the "fun" part of running better than anyone I know. It'll be like running therapy for my running mojo.

~savor the run~

secrets are destructive

when you are a blogger who writes about running, and you are keeping your running plans secret, it's hard to blog about running to a bunch of runners who read blogs about running....
runners are weird.

ya know? Cos, If I tell you what I did this weekend, you'll figure out what I'm trying to do this spring.

Of course, the title of the blog is NEUROSIS OF THE STAY AT HOME MARATHONER... which really should be STUDENT AND HALF-IRON(WO)MAN MARATHONER.... cos I don't stay at home much anymore, to the dismay of my sweet mutt.

Anyway, all y'all might have figured out my preferred distance without me telling you....

REGARDLESS, the result of my not telling all y'all means that this running blog is turning into a play by play of mountain bike shenanigans, a "how to get into mtb" 101 course, and an Ad for the Greater RVA trail systems.

I guess I need to figure out a happy medium.

So to fill you in on the running...

I'm running a solid number of pain free miles each week.

BUT the truth of it is... the "cross training" is really hard to resist, and the BOMB (Blogger On Mountain Bike) will likely continue.

There's Kissed, and then there's Kona Kissed

Kona

It sounds delicious doesn’t it?

Kona makes me think of something decadent.

Something I want to taste. Something I want to savor intimately for hours on end until salty sweat trails in rivulets down the contours of my lush body and breathless gasps of pleasure escape my parted lips.

Oh for sure, I’ll be out of breath in the company of Kona.

How we got from no action at all to something as truly sexy as Kona is a long story. I really can't tell you for fear of boring you all to tears... it's generally about deviant minivans, ridiculousness, clumsy sweaty afternoons at Poor Farm, “that’s what she said”, and one charming 21 year old.

“Hey, what do you think of this one?”

I borrowed this photo from KONAWORLD

“It’s a sexy bike, but...”

Just before the holidays I found myself standing in Richmond Bicycle Studio talking to the ridiculously charming lead mechanic about the merits of a women’s specific Kona versus the 29er I was trying out from a competitor’s shop.

SO...

I kept comparing it to driving a tank. I mean, seriously, I drive a fecking sucktastic beige minivan 99% of my time. For once I'd like to have something agile to tool around on...

After riding the 29er for a week, I concluded that it was too much to handle. Every time I rode it I nearly damaged the parts of my body I would seriously prefer NOT to damage. (there’s a TACO post out there on the internet somewhere that can clarify that, but I’m SO not going into details).

...and ultimately, the 29er was too big to enjoy.

That’s what she said.

Once I tried the Kona there was no going back. It was love.

seriously, this is the
end of the grip...
The 21YearOld says
it's called the
Kona Kiss

This isn’t going to turn into a Kona ad. I swear it’s not, but the attention to detail on the women's specific design warrants a closer look if you're looking at mountain bikes. The stock saddle is freakishly nice... I mean, if you're into Tacos & #junk. 

And I don’t mean to turn this into a RBS ad, except it could become one pretty fast. There are lots of nice places to buy a bike in RVA, but if you want to know WHY I ended up at RBS, go here, and click around for about 14 seconds until you get here.

Now, TRY to give me a good argument to buy anything cycling related at another shop? I’d be hard pressed to do so.

Also, even if you over look that they give 100% of the proceeds of their sales to a non-profit that actually does good, they tossed in a free sticker for my whip.

The sucktastic beige minivan never looked so sexy in her life. 
I think my street cred is up a solid 2%. 

Maybe... 3%.... 

~Savor the ride~

I used to be...

I used to be a SAHM.

I stayed at home, and baked and cooked and sewed buttons on things and went to my fitness classes and organized playgroups... and then I met a runner.... and then I was a SAHM who ran miles and miles and marathons...

and then...

I was a STUDENT ATHLETE (HOTT) MOM who ran marathons... I'm a pretty solid student again... it's a nice feeling to have that back... a TriLaughAlete Mom of 3... A Single Mom of 3... A Stressed-Alot-HolyCARP-Mom of 3...


So now I'm a BOMB... B*tch On Mountain Bike, and seriously, I kinda just made that up on the fly, and I seriously kinda love it...

BOMB level 2... of 10. lame

I'm a terrible B*tch. Not sure I'm bitchy enough to qualify at any level. I'm way too sweet most of the time, slightly naive about the world much of the time, ever hopeful all of the time...

I'm not much of a mtb chic either. I lack  the mad skillz. I'm not gba just yet.

Regardless, I went on a solo ride to try out some new trails on my sweet whip.

If you like something enough to do it completely alone, it kinda says something about the interest in getting better... don't you think? I do.

Though, I might have gone alone because my training plan says I needed some high quality cross training today.

Cross training should always be this fun.

And it was fun. Fun like running alone is fun... maybe you have to be a runner to get that statement in it's wholeness.

Today as I was crashing through the trails.. er, literally... on a borrowed 'not quite mine yet' 29er, I decided to stop with the labeling. I might be a lot of things, but why limit myself?

For every nonsense label I've thought up, I've yet to think up 201 more appropriate ones.

I'm whatever I am in the moment. No label of "neurotic mom of 3" is going to come close to touching on the me that I am.

Besides, at the core of it all,

I'm a runner...

and runners are weird.