Reality of a small town girl

Today marks two months of living in California and it's taken that amount of time for the harsh reality to hit that not everything is going to be rainbows and butterflies; which is usually the bubble that I try to live in. It's quite nice, but a few days ago painted quite the scene as I was sitting on the side of railroad grade gasping for air and crying like a little girl with a skinned knee. This is when the realization hit that sometimes your bubble will burst.

Every person I meet asks me how I'm liking it here, what do I miss about Colorado, how do the places compare. I try so hard not to rant on and on about how great my life was in Vail. How I'd get up, go to yoga, make a stop at the Bookworm for a chai, do some work to barely pay my bills, get in a ride, cook dinner with friends and always run into familiar happy faces along the way. In all honestly, it's been like pulling teeth to get any similar kind of momentum going here. My feelings make me think about the people I'd come across in Vail who would go on about missing their shopping malls, fancy restaurants, fashion, culture, etc. Those are the conversations where my mind would wander to, "what adventure can I conjure up next?" and easily drift towards an assumption of their disrespect for the outdoors.

So here it is. I'm taking a moment to babble because I suppose that's healthy?

What are the differences. Well, for one there's like a million bajillion (yes that's a number) people all around. Granted, I'm in Marin which is much less condensed than San Francisco but, to me it's still packed. It's packed with people always in a hurry, and most of the time I'm not even sure they know what they're busy doing? Go go go...where are you going? This area is also filled with very successful people. The book definition of success. Money money money. Kind of like Vail money that come out to vacation in our high seasons. The ones that have worked for the man until they became the man and can start to live their lives at 45. That choice is fine...for them, but based on how I beat myself up now my body might not be able to handle this kind of activity when I'm 45 so I best keep it going when I'm young. :)

Another major difference is the definition of "the outdoors". I'll give it to the area, that for an urban setting the Bay Area/San Francisco really offers a LOT. A true outdoor experience; not so much, but it's close. Where it's close are all the illegal mountain bike trails. These trails are amazing, fun, challenging; the true birth of mountain biking. Having these trails illegal, leaves fire road and wider than village to village "single track"... or driving for a short loop of pretty fun singletrack built by boyscouts or state parks. Regardless, you're still in your car through traffic for at least 20-30 minutes before touching a good trail. Then there's always the three hour trek to Tahoe. This has made me miss having Berry Creek in my backyard. Yes, Vail people... NEVER take Berry Creek for granted, especially with the Surprise Valley extension. It's in YOUR BACKYARD, and DRY most of the year.

What else? The air. I really miss dry air. I miss the way my lungs burn on rides. Or the "race lung"... Now, it's my legs that are on fire. Which is every ride because no matter what you're going to have some sort of super steep climb to hammer yourself up.

Then there's the obvious; friends and family. I have to admit I'm very lucky to have met the people I have, but as I referenced before... everyone is busy. Busy busy busy... and they either live across a bridge or through a traffic jam. Which tends to end in solo bike rides, dinners, etc.

All in all... I never thought I'd be the one thinking people around me need to slow down. When in Vail I was on "go" mode from the moment I hopped out of bed until I came back to crash my head on the pillow. I'd like to think that even though I was always on the move, I still maintained a good sense of community; if someone needed me I feel like I was always there for them.

I'll find that all here too... it's just going to take time. We all need to complain a bit here and there, right? Now that I'm done with that....

Now for what I've gained. Opportunity. This is something that I was fighting for in Vail and it just wasn't happening. That's what's going to keep me here. I have a great job, and even if it's caused a bit of a "pause" button on racing; it'll be worth it. It may cause some upcoming races to be a little extra painful as I'm not necessarily feeling the most fit right now, but I'm sure there will be a lesson in that as it comes. Creating, growing, and supporting a women's cycling community is such a great opportunity. I try to never lose sight of that when days get a little lonely.

So, there it is... my bubble burst, I've complained, and now I'm done. Hope this wasn't too depressing of a post. Now, get out and enjoy your day!

Bonked at Boggs..

This past weekend I raced in my very first California cross country mtb race, and it was a "he loves me, heloves me not" relationship off the bat.

Knowing I had the weekend off of work, I set out to find something to preoccupy my free time. Realizing my riding has been lacking any real high end pushing, I figured doing a cross country race should

be in order. My procrastination took the best of me and I didn't decide on a race until the night before. Not only did my procrastination take over, but my lack of being prepared or reading the fine print. Luckily, good friend Eric Hill was setting out to do the same race. Thanks to he and his girlfriend Sarah, transportation, water bottle hand off, and great company were all taken care of.

An early morning wake up call after a quasi night's sleep on Eric's pull out couch, which actually felt pretty plush compared to the vast array of sleeping quarters I've had since moving. See below for the best example.

Off to the races we went! All that was on my mind was not forgetting my bike shoes, helmet, and SV jersey. Unfortunately, I don't fill out my jersey like it looks in the link, but I have to say this has been the most comfortable jersey I have ever worn. Capo has the woman's fit figured out! My biggest complaint with tops is how most creep up your waist throughout a ride or race. The last thing you want to think about is pulling down your jersey, and with a looser fit at the waist, this jersey doesn't creep up or give you that elastic band "muffin top" feel. You know what I'm talking about.

Race time, and my body was feeling terrible and I hadn't even made a pedal stroke. Ignoring the lead in my legs and not having my pro license yet, I registered in the pro category. I tend to enjoy jumping in the deep end of any situation and hoping to figure out how to swim through it. Still not knowing all the details of the race, I set out to warm up on the course the same way I would in the Vail Rec District Mountain Bike Series. These races are a bit shorter and typically start with a monster climb that you need to be warmed up for. Little did I know that here at Boggs the race organizer starts us out with a 2 mile road climb followed by a rolling 3 mile single track before even starting the timing of the race! Lesson #1, I probably didn't need the 30 minutes of fire roads before the race. Check.

Line up time. I love this part of any race. It was a mass start, so I wasn't sure who I was racing against but enjoyed checking out the scene, bikes, and people's nerves. Seeing other people nervously chat has a way of settling my own inner chatter. We were off! Here is where KJ learned Lesson #2. When racing you should really have a sense for how long the race is and "pace" accordingly. I went out hot, silly. The 5 mile start wasn't even a part of the race. There was no point of riding up with the fast boys on the climb. Silly. My lead legs continued to feel heavier and heaver and I hadn't even technically started the race yet!?! Smart, KJ.

That was the tone for the three hours I ended up being on my bike. I kept wondering when I would start to settle into a pace or when my body would just start enjoying the race. It wasn't until mid second lap when I heard a female voice behind me. She rode my wheel for a good portion of lap 2 winding through some of the best single track I've ridden in California yet! Forgetting about the sharp turn off the single track up a steep grade road and cakdjcakjdcakdjcekja... there goes my chain.... and there goes first place. Quickly, I tried to shift through the chain suck but got off and fixed it instead. Cursing my bike and my small wheels, I wanted to send Gary out to pasture that very moment! I then saw her pull away, I had no drive to push through the frustration of the second mechanical of the race and the beginning of my cramping that nagged along with me for the remainder of the day. This is where I rode. I was no longer racing and I was officially fighting with my body. As I rode along, feeling crummy and trying to enjoy the trails I heard someone cheering my name up in the distance. I thought to myself, "who knows me here?!?!"..."Is it a surprise from a Colorado friend who absolutely had ENOUGH with all the snow they're still having?".... Nope, it was Julie a new friend and little spit fire who's been coming to my group rides! She looked sharp in her Capo Bacio Short Sleeved Jersey and matching Capo Bacio Shorts. Julie is just getting comfortable with mountain biking and absolutely loving it. Here's a shot of her enjoying some of the race course that day. Thanks Julie! You made the pain subside and kept me motivated to keep pedaling.

Seeing Julie out there changed my perspective for the rest of the race. Yes, I was still cramping and proceeded to drop my chain one more time, but it reminded me why I love mountain biking, and more importantly why I moved to California. Julie is a great example of an amazing woman who really wants to get into mountain biking. She

has the heart, athletic ability, and focus but just needs a little instruction and company for getting started. I saw a bit of myself in her during group rides as she'd go back and ride and re ride sections until she got it. In a way I feel like I'm giving back what Kerry

White, Gretchen Reeves, Lisa Isom to list a few of the amazing women who've helped and continue to help me along my way. If you ask me, that's worth much more than first place.

So, as I inched my way across the finish line for second place, I reviewed the lessons of actual race tactics I learned that day as well as reminded myself why I race.

Some days you have it, others you don't. When the day comes to an end you're just riding a bike, so have fun and remember to share the fun with others!

Went home with a little cash, a cool medal, some electrolyte mix that Eric and I's verdict is still out on the better flavor of HEED. Strawberry? or Lemon Lime? Great job as he crushed his singlespeed field! Pain and race "mistakes" aside, it was a great time with some amazing people and fun new trails!

What's 6 more hours?

This is the phrase that convinced me to sign up for 18 hours of Fruita solo. I mean, what could be THAT much different from a 12 hour race to an 18 hour race?!?! Well, this past weekend's 18 Hours of Fruita gave me a slap in the face of all the differences.

So, there I was sitting on my indoor trainer on one of the coldest days in Edwards, CO registering for my first 18 hour endurance race. It was our record snowfall season and all I wanted to do was ride my bike. Maybe I registered as an excuse to give friends when I never wanted to take a lift to go skiing. "Well, I need to keep my fitness up"... in reality, I was just over the winter. All I wanted to do was roll on two wheels and push my lungs; which is just what I did. Throughout the winter I sought out every chance and opportunity to stay on my bike outside; Salida, Fruita, Front Range, and even local snow packed trails... I wasn't letting go. These feelings of endless winter motivated my decision to take a job in California.

I took a new job and moved out of the valley quite quickly right before the end of the season. I needed opportunity and new adventure, and none of that was happening in Vail. Ideally, I was wanting to start the job after the race allowing me to train where I felt comfortable and spend plenty of time saying goodbye to the valley I still refer to as home, not to mention the great friends and family who I hold dear. It was tough leaving, and still is. However, leaving so soon and spending two weeks in California before the race was probably the best thing for me. Regardless of the stresses of a new place, new job, different people/lifestyle, etc. I was kind of forced to rest. My riding was kept mellow, partially because I had no idea where I was going. I was spending a lot of time focussing on work, and I was sleeping & eating A LOT. Forced recovery you could say. Something I am absolutely terrible at doing. Needless to say, I felt ready. Having the excitement of seeing great friends and riding my bike in one of my favorite places was all that was on my mind. No thoughts and stress of the race really ever crossed my mind.

Fast forward to race day. I'm very fortunate to have many friends who are much more experienced than I am in mountain bike racing, so I exhausted my resources as to what I should do the day of the race that starts at 12 midnight and ends at 6pm the following day. So, I did

just as Honey Stinger pro endurance racer Kris Cannon said I should. My friends and I prepared everything throughout the day and from 4-11 I did absolutely NOTHING. Slept, ate, laid around. It was harder than it sounds having not seen my friends in awhile and really not knowing when I'll get to see them again. One of my wisest friends Heather Russell was great at yelling at me to go back to the tent and go to bed. Thank you HR!

Wake up call from Ben scratching the tent walls, and I was up like a kid on Christmas morning! I probably got dressed in under 5 minutes and was overly excited to race my bike at night for the first time! Friend, bike mechanic, and overall stud Frank Devlin made sure I ate something sustainable and had a shot of coffee before lining up for the start.

Looking back, the night was kind of a blur. I had plans of keeping my laps between 45-50 minutes all day, but I was feeling stronger than that pace. However smart it was, I quickly threw that out the window and just went for it; keeping my laps between 35-40 minutes. I could hear friend and endurance racer Kerry White's voice in my head saying, "you should slow it down Karen"... and like an adolescent to her mother, I ignored the voice. I was rolling and kept coming across familiar faces and kits I would chat with for awhile, think maybe I should slow my pace to ride with them, then decide to push on. Each lap I came through I was overwhelmed with an amazing crew cleaning my chain, clearing my glasses of dust and fog, shoving food in my face, switching out water bottles, and slapping my spandex to get rolling again. Frank, Heather, Ben, Berly, Corrie, Alex, Tyrone, and Dogger... you're all amazing.

Suns up. This was one of the most memorable parts of the race. As the sun rose, everything changed. The trail seemed to take on new turns and obstacles, and my energy took on a new surge. Not to mention the obvious realization just how dusty I was from the whe

el to wheel tearing of dry singletrack.

Lap after lap after lap, I was loving it... keeping my pace strong and enjoying the company and encouragement of many Vail Valley racers on and off the trail. I felt tremendous support, and owe so much of the days accomplishments to so many amazing people.

It wasn't until nearing 12 noon that I was realizing what the difference 6 hours really makes. That's when it hit me. By this time I was beginning to feel tired, my stomach wasn't wanting food or water, and the sun started to beat me down. It was then that I started inquiring on and standings. At that point I was an hour and a lap in first place. Shocked, this gave me a surge of energy. Knowing this and having some of the best friends keeping me smiling by dressing up in costumes and force feeding me. I kept pedaling.

The afternoon went on and the sun began to make me wilt. Heat and I don't get along that well, and the desert scorched me. Dizzy, hot, and in pain I wanted to quit. I questioned why I

was doing this, and convinced myself I couldn't do it anymore. That it wasn't healthy. This is where Heather's words got me going again. A simple, "Karen, why don't you just spin a lap"... I got up and rolled on. This is where the results started to skew. I was now in second place, 5 minutes behind 1st. The competitive edge in me fired. I was not going to come this far and fall back place by place... as I saw 2nd and 3rd not that far behind me. I began to no longer listen to my music and instead focus on my mind staying strong when my body was feeling weak. "Stay steady and just keep pedaling, Karen"..."Shut up legs, you love it"..."The other girls are feeling the same way". This is where, with company of Heather I rolled out another lap. After that lap I was surged again, and kept going for another... and then Frank joined me on another!

Coming in at 5:25, I knew I was done. Studying the times, I was two laps ahead of Christina Begy and one behind of Annie Fox. Even if I could've mustered up a 35 minute lap at that point I'd have come in after Annie's recorded 25th lap. I was done. Happy with how I rode, I was in a fog of the results. When did I get passed? Where did that hour lead go? At that point I was too exhausted to contest, but a couple friends proceeded to check where things went wrong. They went up and inquired and came back even more confused. Did I do 24 or 25 laps? Did they miss one of my laps? Questions that will never be answered, but regardless I was very happy with how I raced.

Being only my second year trying to forge into the racing world, I couldn't have been happier with how I did. Not to mention the overwhelming amount of support I felt from friends supporting, racing, or just spectating. That in itself was worth the 18 hours of saddle fun.

Many people question the sanity of people who choose to enter into the world of ultra endurance racing. Yes, those of us who enjoy events such as this are probably missing a few screws, but I think it's the challenge that brings me back. Not to mention sharing 18 hours with friends new and old... as well as seeing how far the mind can push the body. We'll see what's next!

A new chapter...

Everyone can recall their senior seminar class preparing young scholars for the real world application of their education. This is where we learn the important interview to do's and not to do's. Come dressed appropriately, prepare proofread and double proofread your resume and cover letter, never wear strong perfume or cologne, never chew gum, always engage eye contact, ask the appropriate questions, and of course take notes! Since learning the basics I've been through a gamut of interviews where all of these tips helped me feel prepared and confident before sitting in the hot seat. Flash forward to the past couple days interviewing with the crew at Studio Velo, and the process has opened my eyes to a whole new world of interview preparation.

As I sat in my Colorado mountain town bedroom, packing for this interview I donned the business suit for my race kit and began to find my list of questions taking a fast shift towards pure quality of life. Pedals-check, spandex-check, passion for opportunity-double check. Here we go!

From the first email contact with shop owner Scott Penzarella, I could immediately sense his passion for what his company offers. This passion and pure sincerity has resonated through each employee, friend, or family member I've met since being here for the past two days. Co-owner Chris Reed picked me up from my shuttle in his truck, with his Ellsworth ready to roll in the back. He brought me back to the shop where I met Jeanie, the right hand woman of Studio Velo and huge aspect of the women's side. Chris and I hit up a great little lunch spot to talk more about the company and the position. Back to the shop where we met up with Scott, who had just gotten back from a powder slaying session at Tahoe. Time to ride!

Now, I love riding. Absolutely 110% pure love for anything involving a bicycle. We set out, get to chatting and I'm told approximately how long we'll ride and that this will be part of my interview. Flash forward three hours, over 4,000 feet of climbing, mud, blood, swet, and a smile from ear to ear. I think I passed the riding test? Mill Valley most definitely proved to be the birth of mountain biking with its great climbs, swooping singletrack, and breathtaking views. I had to remind myself throughout the ride that this was really part of my interview, but found that fact easily slipping my mind as I was completely in my element. Not to mention an acquired case of ADD when it comes to new trails, great company, ocean view in one direction and lush green land in the other. Someone pinch me!

This tone was carried into the next day. I woke up in the beautiful home of Scott and his wife Rachel to Scott's brother Chris preparing coffee and Scott asking me if I want toast or a tortilla with my eggs. My body was a little tired as it's March, and where I live most people's bikes are still hibernating. After some great breakfast and some light stretching, we set out to the shop where I spent a couple hours with Jeanie going over her typical day on the women's side. The clouds started to roll in, a little bit of precipitation began to spit on and off, and here we are putting on our interview spandex again to head out for a road ride. This is where reality set in what a nice road bike feels like. Unlike my "roadbike" at home, I could feel the pure efficiency of the beautiful craftsmanship with each pedal stroke on the Ridley I was allowed to take out that afternoon. It's an amazing tool for training, and what I'm finding a complete necessity in that area. Another over 4,000 feet of climbing coupled with wind, rain, chilly temps resulting in the inability to feel my toes; I fell in love with the road riding in the area. Could someone pinch me again?

Scott and I spent a good portion climbing up Mt. Tam talking details of his expectations and where this position has potential to go. Since that conversation, my mind hasn't turned off. Scott runs a business that has something unique that most businesses lack. That's passion. Passion for what he provides, but also who he employs. The staff of Studio Velo are a great example of "work hard to play hard". Scott wouldn't be offering me a "job", but more a way of life. He'd be giving me the opportunity to incorporate my academic history, work ethic, passion for cycling and community, as well as a future in mountain bike racing, all wrapped up into a career. It's like a happy burrito of my hobbies and my education. I feel as though that's what most people strive for, but little find.

Looking back on the past couple days, I've had to sit back and take it all in. Calm my heart not only from the great riding, but the opportunity that lies ahead. Nothing is for certain, but one thing I do know is that I will never forget this interview process. Thank you to everyone at Studio Velo for taking me in and making me feel so welcome and at home. Ride on

TRAINING : a 4 letter word.

I haven't quite cornered why the word "train" sends a nails on a chalkboard chill up my spine. I cringe anytime someone asks, "What did you do for training?"... "have you started your training plan for next season yet?"... etc. In my opinion, this word that seems to echo a headache between my ears is a complete fun sucker. I choose to race because I love it; I love the sport, I love the people I've met just getting into it, and the beautiful places my two wheels have brought me. Simple.

I find it true across the board that the people who get so concerned with "training", checking workouts off their list of "to do's", and racing to meet their estimated goals of weight, time, speed, etc... these people become so consumed with "the next check mark"... that they forget to enjoy the moment. Yes, every moment...the good and the bad. Enjoy the hours, miles, pain, sweat, falls, lessons... all of it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm learning more and more how important this four letter word really is. Organized, concise, efficient...t-t-t-training... What I'm finding is that with this word that I don't want to keep repeating, knowing when to lay it down has been the most difficult. Knowing when to hold back, rest, and put the guilt away. My problem is that I enjoy pushing so much, that when I'm running on empty or being told I need to rest... I have an overwhelming sense of "missing out". Like not being invited to play tag at recess. This is where I need to focus my "training"... laying it down and letting my body recover.

My dad tells me that I have an addiction and that he doesn't think it's healthy... I'll simply reply to him, "Would you rather me be an alcoholic?" That seems to stop the conversation quite well :)

So, yes I guess I am training. "Training to train" is how I've been told to think of it. (double wammy of this 4 letter word)... Letting my body rest, giving myself a break, and setting it down for awhile. Then, when it's time... I can hit the ground running with a smile from ear to ear :)

Decisions... Decisions... Decisions...

No one told me that the transition from 25 to 26 was going to be filled with so many of these pesky, looming decisions. No one warned me that making these decisions and choosing to go deeper and deeper into this unconventional life...that this would be coupled with those unheard of emotions every good Midwesterner has been conditioned to lock in a pretty little box tied with a bow and stored in the far back corner of their closets. Nope, this all came on like a ton of bricks... and seems as though every day my heart is screaming something else and I can't seem to find the ear plugs...

I'm constantly amazed about how many people have an opinion about everyone else's lives and the decisions they're faced with... Do this, do that... date him, aren't you dating him?, you'd be good at this, why don't you do that, you could always move back to Minnesota... aren't you going to nursing school... no one really cares that you moved up in the RECREATIONAL town series...really?!?! This clatter has got to stop...

I've decided to listen to my heart, regardless of what my mind is able to fabricate. Let me tell you one thing, my mind can create quite the happy place that is pretty convincing! However, when the day comes to an end and I'm crawling into bed... all that really matters is if my heart feels fulfilled... so, bring it on 26... I'm ready, let's do this.

With one arm waving free...

Since my last post I feel like I have found a new sense of peace with all that I'm doing as well as all that I'm not doing.

What am I doing? Playing. I have become completely open and receptive to the idea that the once childish feeling of running around barefoot, bellowing an honest giggle with one arm waving free can be carried into adulthood. AND BE OK! Where I'm from, and in society in general we have this mindset that all this has to stop once we're forced to start taking the endless fill-in bubble tests and "planning" for our futures. I can attest that being on that "planned" route felt like being trapped in a magician's box about to test if, in fact he can really cut you in two. I never failed, but I was never truly happy following this path.

Onto what I'm not doing. I'm not a doctor, nurse, PA, or working my way up the cubicle corporate ladder, therefore I'm not making any money. I'm not jumping into a relationship that seems to be the right thing to do in order to have a family before I'm 30. I'm not laying out a down payment on a house. I'm not spending my free time at ball games, home depot, bars, a couch, more bars, or a shopping mall. How un-American!

It's taken a recent trip home for me to completely question all of this, what I am and am not accomplishing right now. Through having every thought of quitting everything and moving back into the American "blue print" life or completely disconnecting with my family and living the stubborn "I'll do it my way" path...I've thought of it all.

The conclusion became simple through tears at the Minneapolis airport and a clearing conversation with a good friend. She reminded me the simple fact that at the end of the day it's your life, not your friends, parents, sibling, etc....and if you're not happy with how you're living then something needs to change because you'll never be happy if you aren't doing things for you. Something so simple.

So, after really fully letting all those thoughts and emotions sink in I came to this amazing sense of peace and happiness about what I am, and am not doing. Yes, I have a "job" not a "career", I'm more familiar with the changing of seasons than this week's episode of The Bachelor, and most importantly I wake up happy and excited to be living where I am and doing the things I'm doing...and I don't plan on changing that anytime soon.