Lots of rain, little riding, racing this weekend

My last post (from what seems like forever ago) was about how was super frustrated with mountain biking because I felt like I couldn’t improve. I had written it a little while before I posted it, and I had another post in the works about how something had recently clicked and I was beginning to feel so much better on the trails. But that was back in November. We were riding so much then that I was becoming so fast and confident. The trail features that used to trip me up I could now (mostly) effortlessly fly over. Then the rain came, and came, and so did shorter days, and all the opportunities and motivation to bike went POOF. No longer were we riding a few times a week. Instead it was once every other week if we were lucky. And no longer did I feel like I could write a post about improving because my speed was falling and so was my confidence. Because of this lack of mountain biking, I haven’t been very inspired to write any new posts (sorry!). But it’s finally starting to dry out here, days are starting to get longer again, so we’ve been able to get a little more riding in lately (two whole trail rides so far this month!). But oof those rides have been rough! My endurance and power have gone bye bye and now I’m struggling up what were once easy hills and have to build back up to longer rides without my lower back hurting (which seems to happen when my legs are weak and I put more stress on my back). Though my confidence on the trails isn’t exactly what it was, I’ve been surprised that I’m not as much as a scaredy cat as I thought I’d be. Maybe I did actually improve and all that improvement hadn’t disappeared! My brain is definitely working harder than it should be and I have to concentrate more than I would if I were riding more frequently, but I don’t feel like I’m starting from scratch.

Such a sad drop of miles at the end of the year :(

But of course I haven’t been just sitting on my butt and not exercising during all this rain (that’s not even possible unless someone really wants me to go crazy). I’ve just been forced onto my trainer, which I’ve been using as easy day workouts, causing my biking muscles further deteriorate. Also I decided I wanted to keep building up my run and so I decided to train for a half marathon. It was going to be something good to do while the trails were too wet to ride and when Alex was supposed to be gone for work. But the trails are drying, Alex’s schedule has changed, and my running has been feeling better, so I don’t think I’ll actually race the half marathon. I’m not into doing races just to do them anymore. They're expensive, stressful, painful, time consuming, and just not exciting as they used to be. Especially simple road running races where unless I’ve specifically trained for it and want to PR, or a bunch of people I know are doing it, they're just not worth it. Because why would I spend all that money and time to run a certain distance when I can do it at my leisure for free? But that’s not to say I don’t like racing, it just has to be something different and more exciting.

Which brings me to a little, local off-road duathlon that I’ll be doing this weekend. Since there aren’t that many off-road triathlons, this one fills a void in my racing heart. I did it last year and it was fun, just a 2 mile run, 7 mile bike, and 2 mile run. My first off-road multisport race! With wide, flat dirt fire roads for the bike that was the perfect opportunity to fly on my cyclocross bike. And it was the first race I’ve ever outright won! Unfortunately not the most competitive field, but still exciting to win. And now I want to win again, but this whole lack of mountain biking has really dampened my motivation to train for it. Last week I finally got to take my cross bike out for its first ride in months, and though I was surprised that I felt pretty confident on it, my legs were sore the next day after riding for only 15 minutes. That whole power and strength thing necessary in off-road riding was nonexistent in my poor little leggies. This past weekend I did the tiniest brick ever and my right knee started killing for the first few steps of my run, but luckily it went away. But I’ve been trying to do more short rides on my cross bike this week to prep a little. No matter what, this race is definitely going to be interesting physically. I’m hoping it’ll kick my butt back into training mode because I want to do a few XTERRA races this summer and I do want to actually be well prepared for those!

Hopefully I'll be as happy at the duathlon this year as I was in this picture from last year!

Why do I feel so discouraged on my fastest laps?

Every time I push myself to go faster on the trail I feel like I'm having a terrible lap. The turns feel sketchy, I bump and bounce over the rough stuff, and even the littlest climbs make me hurt. But when I check Strava after the ride, I realize that I've ridden one of my fastest laps. This got me thinking, why is there such a disconnect with feeling good and going fast?

After talking with Alex and thinking about this, I believe it comes down to two things: (1) mountain biking speed and effort are not directly related and (2) speed is scary!

First, why doesn't more effort equal more speed on the trail? Mountain biking is kind of like swimming -- technique is way more important than pure power. When swimming, no matter how hard and fast you try to spin your arms and kick, if you aren't using good form then you'll end up putting a lot of effort into splashing in place (or what feels like it) instead of gliding effortlessly through the water. With mountain biking, instead of fighting against water resistance, it's roots and rocks, sharp turns, and steep climbs that eat speed. A smooth rider can float through these technical sections without losing speed. But if you're like me and your technical skills need work, you'll feel like you're splashing around in a sea of dirt.

This is all completely different from what I'm used to with road riding, where more effort equals more speed. You push harder on the pedals, you go faster. Pretty straightforward. But that all gets thrown out on the trail where one minute you're breathing easily as you cruise through a flowy section and the next you're huffing and puffing to make it up a climb. Where road riding is a steady burn, mountain biking is a series of little explosions. I can no longer use my learned sense of effort from the road to judge how I'm doing on the trail. It's been really frustrating to put in so much effort on the trail only to have every bump/corner/hill slow you down.

But I know, it takes time in the saddle and a lot of practice to improve technical skills. All that time on the bike gets you strong enough to charge up the hills and accelerate out of every turn. Then you can really fly on the trails, which brings me to my second point: speed is scary! Going faster cuts down on time you have to react to trail features (and makes those features hurt more when you hit them). When you're going fast, you're on the edge of control, that fine line between a new PR or wiping out. As you probably can guess, I like to be far away from that line, way over on the safe side. But according to Alex, when you really push your limits, it's almost always going to feel sketchy, no matter how good you get because you're always pushing yourself to go even faster. 

So how can I (and hopefully you) feel more encouraged at the end of fast laps?

The two things that are helping me the most are better cornering and pushing myself to go faster more often. Cornering can be a whole other post, but what I think makes the most difference for me is looking through the turn instead of at the trees I'm trying to not hit. Look where you want to go, not where you don't want to go! (Alex's constant reminder). I have to always remind myself to do this, but as I get better at it, turns get faster and easier. And the more I ride fast, the more comfortable I get at higher speeds and the less scary everything seems. The real payoff seems to come the next time I ride. The speed that felt so scary before suddenly seems normal and I get to enjoy the rush of throwing the bike into turns and charging over the chunky stuff. 

I need to get into the mindset that pushing for a new PR is going to feel rough, but it's an investment. Going faster than I ever have before means I'm going to be a little sloppy through the tough sections. I'll be uncomfortably close to that edge of control going into turns and my legs will burn trying to accelerate out of them. It's all worth it when I go on a group ride and can hang with the fast group compared to last season when I stayed back with the slower riders. Or when I look at Strava and what felt like an easy ride is a full minute faster than my best lap from the month before. But the most rewarding part is when we finish a lap and Alex is breathing hard to keep up. Because is there anything better than than making your husband work hard to keep up with you?

P.S. There's hope! My hard work is finally starting to pay off! And Alex was really out of breath after this one :)

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(No) crying in mountain biking

I'd be lying if I said that mountain biking can make me so nervous that I felt like I could cry at the drop of a hat. Or by being bumped the wrong way by a root. Or not being able to make it over something. I'd also be lying if I said that I've never cried on the trails.

Mountain biking is all about pushing yourself to do things you never thought you could do. And many of those things make me super nervous, scared, and frustrated. My first few months of mountain biking were full of amazing accomplishments, which were almost always proceeded by thinking that I was going to die. Well not die, but fall and seriously hurt myself. And that feeling of not being in control was enough to dry out my mouth, make my knees shake, and fill my eyes with tears. But I never let that stop me because deep down I know that the only way to make myself better is to push through what scares me the most. And let me tell you, it's worth it!

My first time crying on the trail was on one of my first rides. There was this little A frame (i.e. a wooden ramp feature that comes to a point at the top so it looks like an A) that my husband Alex wanted me to ride over. After a few run-ups I finally let me front wheel start to go over the A frame, but then I got scared and grabbed my brakes, which resulted in me falling off my bike and landing on my elbow. I tried to hide the tears from Alex and pretend that it was because of my elbow, but it was an accumulation of trying to do something that scared me and failing. I could have called it quits after that and went back to the car, but, after the pain subsided, I got back on my bike and kept riding. Though I didn't clean the A frame that day and I was still shaking from being scared, I didn't let that little fall stop me from continuing on the ride.

A more recent time tears welled up in my eyes was when I tried to hang on Alex's tail for a lap of a trail. (Alex is a faster rider than me, but I almost always ride in front so we can stay together). I was finally ready to take the next step in mountain biking by finding more speed that I knew that I had, but that meant getting out of my comfort zone and pushing myself to take turns quicker and not grab my brakes as frequently. As a cautious rider, slow turns and brakes were my friends, but taking things easy is no way to get better. So off went Alex and, as I tried to keep up, almost immediately I could feel my mouth dry out, my hands hurt from gripping so hard, and tears welling up because I was getting scared. I tried to ignore all this and focus on smoothing out my ride so I could carry speed and keep up with Alex who was barely pedaling but somehow so much faster. When he asked how I was doing, I hoped my voice cracking didn't give away how scared I was. But if I were to describe a turning point in mountain biking for me, I'd say this ride was it. When my fear finally started to subside towards the end of the ride, so many little things clicked and I could more easily keep up with Alex. To this day, that lap is my fastest yet. (I need to do another one of these laps soon...)



There are so many things to learn by getting out of our comfort zones. I've built up a lot of mental toughness from training for triathlons and marathons, and that attitude of never giving up is essential to becoming a better mountain biker. And thank goodness I have Alex to push me, or I would probably stay in my little protective bubble forever. But those bubbles are so boring. By trying and succeeding at things that scares you, your comfort zone can expand to include so many awesome parts of the trail and speeds you never thought you were capable of!