Gowdy Grinder – A Race Review

I should have known how my race would end when I missed the turn off Highway 210 for Curt Gowdy State Park.  Or maybe I should have known when the friendly folks working the number pick-up table couldn’t find my race number, despite the fact I was “on the list.”  Or maybe I should have known how the race would end back on April 23 when my pre-ride was cancelled because the trails were covered with snow.  These are just a few of the signs as to how my race would end right up to the seconds after the race director yelled “go”.  However, this post is intended to be more of a race review than the excuses for my 8th place finish in the Advanced Women category.  On some level, they do go hand-in-hand.

I left the house very early on May 13 for the drive from Arvada, Colorado to Curt Gowdy State Park in southeastern Wyoming.  My race started at 11:01 AM, and I planned to arrive before 10.  I was grateful to have left enough of a cushion in my drive time to accommodate the missed turn off highway 210 which added about 30 extra minutes to my drive.  The signage within the park directing race traffic was obvious and easy to follow.  Because the number of race registrants is limited to just 325, there was ample parking as competitors arrived and departed throughout the day.

This race is self described as a “bare bones” race and as such, there were only a handful of tents setup at the Aspen Grove Trailhead, making it easy to figure out which one was the registration tent.  Despite a thorough search, the registration volunteer was unable to locate my number and waiver.  The race director quickly got involved and reassigned me to another number.  This left me with about an hour to kill before start time.  I busied myself with applying sunscreen, suiting up, checking tire pressure, taking in some calories, and a half-hearted warm up on and off the race course.  The Advanced Women’s race consisted of two loops, one ~5 mile loop, and another ~8 mile loop.  The two loops overlapped in part.  My goal was to finish the race in under two hours even though I’d never ridden the trails before.

The start line was situated on an uphill jeep trail so as to thin the flow of racers before arriving at the single track on top of the hill.  I was thrilled that mom’s were called up to the front of the 10 person peloton.  That thrill quickly passed when I realized that I was the only mom.  I knew all those other women had spent less time in a hockey rink and more time pedaling their bikes than I had.  I was even less thrilled when I got passed within the first 5 pedal strokes after the race started.  (audible sigh)

Because the April snow had foiled my plans at a pre-ride, I was very concerned about how I would find my way through the race course.  The Gowdy Grinder was quite possibly the best marked mountain bike race I have done.  There were signs at every fork in the trail as well as ribbons tied to tree branches.   Despite all this great signage, I made a wrong turn during the long loop of my race.  (I’d give specifics on exactly where this happened, but I neglected to turn on my Garmin at the start of the race.)  I back tracked and found the turn.  I’m still scratching my head as to how I missed it given the great signage.

At some point into the second loop I began to recognize the terrain from the previous loop and I knew I didn’t have too much further to go.  The terrain at Curt Gowdy was an interesting mix of flowy single track and funky rock formations that were incorporated into the trails.  It was more technical than I had anticipated, but very fun riding nonetheless.  I uncerimoniously crossed the finish line in eighth place of 10 racers and went directly to my car to change.

At the food tent, the race crew actually made sandwiches for participants.  Being that I am responsible for the cooking at our house, I was beyond thrilled to have someone build a sandwich for me.  It was quite possibly the best turkey sandwich I’ve ever had!  They also had the best macarons west of Paris.  These alone would draw me back for the race next year! Thanks Pedalhouse and Laramie Racing for a fantastic experience!

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Shifting Gears

Ascending a hill begins with pedaling as long as you can in whatever gear you happen to be in.  As turning the pedals becomes more difficult, you shift into an easier gear with the push of a finger or two.  Leg muscles and lungs quickly adapt to the change in tension. When you finally get to the easiest gear, you settle into a rhythm and keep pedaling.  When you crest the hill, more tension is added with the push of a finger and once again the body adapts in a matter of seconds.

Wouldn’t it be great if our minds could adapt to change as quickly?

Fourteen years ago I became a mother.  My first mother’s day can best be described as weird.  When my daughter was born, I’d spent over 30 years making  Mother’s Day special for my mom.  My mom’s birthday just happens to be May 13th.  Some years, Mother’s Day and her birthday would fall on the same day.  No matter when Mother’s Day was observed, my brothers and

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Me, my mom and brothers on my 1st birthday.  Angel food is still my favorite!

 

I attempted to keep the two separate and special.

But there I found myself, at the center of attention on a day that felt like it was about anyone but me.   Eventually I shifted gears and settled into the rhythm of enjoying Mother’s Day, just like my mom must have done when it was new to her all those years ago.  After she died, I once again found myself in a strange place with Mother’s Day.  While I had been a mother for eight years at the time of her death, I’d spent nearly four decades making that day special for her.  I guess you could say I failed to shift gears and allow myself to adapt to a new meaning of Mother’s Day.  I could no longer look at cards for my mothers-in-law because they all made me cry.  The flowers at the store, commercials I saw on TV, and pictures on Facebook only reinforced what I no longer had.  If you haven’t lost someone you love, you might not understand what I mean when I say that she is never far from my thoughts.  The absence of that loved one leaves a large void  in each and every day, but especially on days like Mother’s Day or birthdays.

Motoman and I were talking recently and the subject of Mother’s Day came up.  I told him I no longer do Mother’s Day since I don’t have a mother.  He looked at me and replied “well, you should since you have a daughter.”  In that moment, recognized my failure to adapt to the new meaning of Mother’s Day.   I realized how selfish and unfair I’d been to my own daughter for the last six years.  She’s spent her entire life making Mother’s Day special for me and here I was, refusing to shift gears and adapt to life as it remains.

It’s been a challenging ride, but I think it’s time to find the right gear for the rest of this climb, settle into a rhythm, and keep pedaling.

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Spring 2002 – shortly after Sierra was born. 3 generations.