First off ~ the artwork. These original art paintings are by the super talented Dianne of Derbyshire Dales, England. Her ETSY shop is HilltopPaintings, where you will find both prints ($20) and originals ($75). It was this artist's rendition of the English Country house that inspired a story that I've started working on. The art is so lovely that I also decided to build another wardrobe around it. Enjoy!

No races. No getting up before 6 to force feed myself breakfast, pack the car, and stand around all day in a soggy, cold field waiting for my race as I fret about what and when and how much to eat to be race ready. No hosing off myself and my bike, no unpacking the car. Wow, I guess Not racing and ending this year's cross season was the right choice for me! Tho, I hear other people had fun - and I'm very happy for them & hope to figure out how to be in that group in the future.

Instead, on Saturday I rode with the club. We took a route variation, and with friends I haven't ridden with in a while we rode our own pace. By the time we turned right for the Blueberry Fields out & back, it was time to stretch the legs and push out a 22-23mph effort. It felt Great!! By the time we turned around, the rain drops started to fall. Instead of taking the full loop back, I cut back on my own so I could warm up & prep for the rest of my day. Along the way, the near-hail rain was hitting me sharp and hard, and while it wasn't necessarily a Cold day, the rain & heavy winds battered me. In hindsight, I should have put on embrocation. As it was, the thighs were so bright red they looked sunburnt, and had that awful itchy sensation & took forever to warm up.

That evening we hosted some of our friends for a Coconut Bliss tasting event ~ and had a lovely time! The next day, I was able to sleep in. I think I made it till 7:30, when I got up & made some cinnamon rolls. Matt had to work all day, so I spent a very lazy Sunday doing a little laundry, a few dishes, and snuggling with the dogs.

I did attempt to do something active, deciding that perhaps I should try some yoga to help loosen my hips and legs. This didn't work so well, even using the Beginner dvd that I've got - so that by the 3rd pose I threw in the towel & decided I'd need to track down a remedial effort instead. That, or find a way to mix yoga with a hot tub to aid the muscles and tendons that are far too tightly wound. That's right ~ hot water yoga. Contact me for franchise opportunities! (ha!)

ModCloth Stirke the Right Cord Coat $147.99
Organic Scoop Neck T-shirt in Ivory - kventuradesign $26
Copper Squash Flower Earrings - ShySiren $22
1950's Vintage Leaf Pin Brooch - EarlyBirdJewels $12
ModCloth Minsk Scarf - $19.99
Superlow Boot Cut 524™ Jeans in Mosaic - Levi's $35
ModCloth All About Eve Wedge - $37.99
__________________________________________
Wardrobe: $301

Let me start by saying this will be a whiny, self-centered post. Feel free to skip it.

Friday: get to the rental house. It is Awesome - would stay there again. Get pizza. Fabulous. Great start to the weekend. I turn on the fire in our room just before we go to bed, so the room is nice & toasty. We lay down, and a massive storm is blowing thru. The constant wind is fine, creating significant white noise, but just as we start to drift asleep, a massive gust blows thru and wakes us up. This continues until around 2am? So frustrating. I've never before been seriously afraid that my car would be blown over. And since we were parked on the pier, I was sure I'd wake up to see the mini floating down river.

Saturday: wake up early. Seriously early - everyone else in the house is still asleep. It is still dark out. But I'm awake, my hips hurt, I didn't get much sleep, and so I sneak into the kitchen and smuggle breakfast back to our room. Eventually, everyone is up and we head out to the fairgrounds. The tents somehow survived the storm. Matt starts his warmup, we survey a very wet and muddy course, and attempt to stay dry from the intermittent storms. Matt races on my front wheel, and gets back from the bike wash just in time for me to warm up. We throw the wheel on, and I take my bike to the road since all the trainers are in use. After a 2 mile loop, I bring the bike back - gears aren't sticking. I try the Shimano support tent, but they are so backed up that they'll never get to me in time. Fortunately, Matt and Sal are able to fix it. It's time to race.

Line up. And the skies open up with a 10 minute storm. Racers and spectators rush to the few tents in the staging area. Four of us stand in the rain. Alaska, a beginner next to me, comments that the only precipitation they get is in the form of Snow. This is her first race - I let her know she's hard core. We have another 5 mins before we line up, so I roll over to Matt & Laura who are hiding under a tent, and am able to avoid being completely soaked.

We finally line up. Matt is there with some last minute advice: Stay Left. All the way down into the meadow, the left line is the line to take. The girl next to me is listening & nodding as well. Even tho I haven't given it a pre-ride, I remember this section from last year. The whistle blasts, and we're off. I'm mid pack on the left, and stay out of the saddle over the pavement - moving up along the way. Into mud - and I keep pushing. Sweeping right turn, I'm on the outside line and I keep pushing it downhill until I can coast. I glance around, and there are suddenly only three bodies up here with me. Push thru the meadow, around and to the climb. And that's where my race pretty much ends. They start passing, as I struggle up the hill. I love the new gears, but the climb takes it out of me. So for the rest of the first lap, it's gasping and going slow. There are a few other punchy climbs - one into the hill where our tent is setup. I know it's rideable, if you get enough speed. I did ride it once, on one of the laps. I also slipped and layed the bike down once or twice while awkwardly trying to unclip & keep myself upright. And the last lap, I nearly make it over the climb when I lose momentum, then start sliding backwards a good 6 feet - and am Very Happy there wasn't anyone directly behind me. The start, and this backward glide are my best moments of the race. And it hits me that I really Really don't belong in this category. I have a number of additional spills, near spills, and a wreck that tried to take my big toe off. When I stand, my left calf is angry, and it's slow going. Every subsequent remount is taxing, and eventually I relinquish my attempts to a full stop, lean the bike way over, and ease my right leg over the frame. I'm no longer racing, I'm just trying to finish. Dead last.

Later that night I'm blessed with a massage, as Laura is staying with us. I tell her my Everything hurts, right down to my eyeballs. Massage proves this is accurate. My forearms & hips in particular, and later that night I have very little control of my right hand as the forearm is so battered & bruised. I go to bed very early, I'm not able to stay awake, but I'm not able to stay asleep either. A better night sleep, an extra hour plus the extra from laying down so early.. and again wake up before anyone else.

We clear out & get to the course. It's a sunny day, full of costumes & craziness. The plan is to just ride for fun. The team costume was Guy Fawks from V for Vendetta. It's awesome and imposing. Unfortunately, I should have dressed as Evey since this is how I was feeling: I hurt. A lot. I fell over a ton. The course was even more technical than the day before, and fear set in. I was afraid of every decent. I was afraid of an endo, of slipping out, of the pain that continued to pile on lap after lap. I tried to ride carefree. I slipped out around a corner, and instantly covered my head out of fear for the pile of riders behind me. They missed, and I scampered out of the way. I ran down the rest of the hill. By the time I hit the sloppy mud again, all I could think about -- I wasn't having any fun. I realized I hadn't put in the training, not Really, to expect anything other than my sloppy riding and crappy finishes. I was beating myself up for another DFL, and that was it. I was done. I rolled thru the bell lap, where every beginner had to have lapped me already, and then decided to just stay on course until I got to the team tent, since that was the easiest part of the race. I rolled over, dropped the bike, and tried really hard not to break down in tears. I've been defeated. Cyclocross has won - it is tougher than I am. I won't get on that bike again this year. I'm undecided on what will happen next year - but that's far enough away that I don't have to think about it yet.

We packed up the car, and my friend from the cross clinics came over. Bouncing. Smiling. She is Loving cross, and having a great time. They all are. I'm here, sitting on the fringe, hating myself for not finding the fun.

My forearms are still tight and painful. Legs are sore. I have a knot over my knee where I mashed the pedal into my leg. I have at least one rib not sitting right. I'm frustrated that this weekend was such a spectacular fail. Frustrated that day two of pain meant I couldn't help Matt unload the car, when he was struggling with being at least as sore as I was.

Astoria, Cross, Painbringer. You can officially f' off. We're thru.

Saturday. Lap 3, way off the back. Heart beating - thumping loud and steady. Thump turns to a whoosh of warmth in my chest, and I'm startled. Hand to heart, slow down, sit up, and there it is again. Every other beat. I get off my bike, and my breathing starts to go crazy. It's not like I was going fast. It's not like I was working too hard. But my body shut down and my race was over. I try to relax, but breathing gets worse. I'm scared, shaking, I can't process anything beyond the immediacy of what's going on with my body. Is this what an anxiety attack feels like? chaos finally calms. Massage attempted, but I'm so tense that every touch is pain. The rest of the evening is a slow recovery.

Sunday is also race day. The warmup lap isn't bad. I'm feeling better than the day before. I call Tina & spill out my messy guts and fears. She arrives during my minuscule warm up, and gives the pep talk I needed to hear. I don't cry, but it's right there on the edge. This is fun. Fun is why I'm here. Find the f'n fun. I line up in the grid, and am the last in the pack. The girls around me are all calm. I'm calm. I turn my focus inside, and send Matt off to cheer elsewhere. We finally go. I push enough to stay on the pack, I pass a few people, but make sure not to tax myself too hard out the gate.

Zig and zag and into the mud. This part is new, the mud is thick - but there is grass on the edge. I push to the outside, riding over the grassy fringe and making more progress than those in the middle. Not every lap is as successful as this - but there was only once I had to walk after getting stuck in the slop. From grass to gravel, pavement to mud, thru stables and hay. Mud is spraying off my front wheel, and I taste farm-poo. A gaggle of school girls cheer for us. My rests are tiny - a few seconds and I get out of the saddle again. Barriers are where I make progress and pass a few that passed me moments ago. I keep going. Thru trecherous mud before the finish line, lap after lap. Ironclad turned their corner into a money grab. Lap 2 and I nearly had a buck in my mouth. The next-to-last lap I stop, grab the dollar and stick it down my shirt. Starting back up was my only fall in the race - hillarious, but forced me to run the off-camber before the hardest turn. It's a constant jam; I manage to run it every time, racing smart over trying to force the turn seated. The team goes nuts every time I pass, but the voice I hear is Matt's. Always cheering for me, encouraging me. Telling me I'm doing far better than I am. Eventually he tells me I'm moving up in the pack. It can't be far, and I can't distinguish those I've passed from those that passed me.And then on the final lap, I find myself moving up thru the W Beginner's field. Something I've never had to do before. This is what the Fast girls talk about. I call out 'good job!' and 'well done!' as I go by. I see one more girl with a number from my field. I find the moment, and pass her. The moment came in a sloppy, muddy section - I cut across in a bizarre line to pick up the grass on the opposite side, and then charged. The spectator on the corner tells me that was Pro, which gives the legs a little more go. When I cross the line there is Matt waiting for me, holding out a beer for my finish.

This was a good race. It felt like my best, where I could ride and keep going. There were a few near-slips in the mud that taxed my muscles enough to hurt the next day. But I stayed right side up, and I had fun. The heart & breathing never got out of control. And I finished with a smile.

Next up? Astoria, costumes, and climbs. And from the looks of it, a little more mud.

Big shock, but our weekends are pretty busy. When Sunday means we're on the road by 6:30 am and home in time for dinner, that doesn't leave a lot of time (not to mention having any energy) to cook. So, I took advantage of Saturday afternoon to get ahead of the game.

First up - a prerace chicken pot pie. I poached 4 chicken breasts in some Pacific Foods low sodium organic broth, and spiced it with a little salt, fresh ground pepper, cayenne pepper, crushed red pepper, thyme, a hint of rosemary, bay leaf, and garlic. Once the meat cooked thru, I removed & diced it. I poured the broth into a large measuring bowl, and cooked up a roux. As soon as it was warm & nutty I put the broth back in, thickened it up, and added the chicken, frozen peas & carrots, and frozen diced potatoes (hash brown aisle) - all of the low sodium variety. While these warmed up & flavors mingled, I rolled out some Krust-Ez dough & prepped the pie pan. Not long after, one pie was in the oven, (bake like a pie - till hot & golden brown) and the remainder of the stuffing went to the freezer for another day.

As soon as that was done, I tackled lillyella's cheesy shell lasagna. I needed something I could just throw in the oven post-race, as I am a little burned out on over-crock-potted-fud. I used italian sausage, added a couple layers of previously-frozen-spinach, and filled up the caserole dish. The next day - super easy, nice & cheesy. Matt's only regret was that I didn't use Ricotta {stated repeatedly, with the Giada accent}. So, I suppose next time I'll have to either make or buy some ricotta. But this recipe was a winner - even if the shells weren't those teeny tiny kind. (Seriously, fred meyer, what's the deal?)

Since we're now in the long gray of Oregon's fall & winter, pot pies will be a regular on our menu. I'm happy to have a pasta dish to add, and need to think about future make&freeze consolidated baking.

What went wrong:

• I didn't want to go. In fact, I'm pretty sure I pouted & whined & cried before we left the house. Stupid 5:45am wakeup call on the weekends. Stupid course report from Kender.
  
• Team tent set up in the boonies ~ couldn't even see the race.
• No breakfast before our preride. Lap 2 fell apart.
• Attempting to use the hand sanitizer in the porta-potty only to have an earwig drop in my hand. {screamed like a little girl & got the frak out of there}
• The second half of each lap. That muddy climb cooked me, so I was spent & slow thru the bumpy field section.
• Not looking far enough up course thru the tree zig zag. First time thru I hardly avoided the trees.
• Spending too much time running up the gravel climb because I didn't have enough momentum or power to stay upright & climb.
  

What went right:

• I went, and I raced.
  
• Getting in two laps early morning.
• An aggressive start. I did manage to push thru a bit, pretty sure I cut off Heidi (sorry - tried to not completely take your line away), and managed to stay upright once my front wheel embraced a rear wheel in front of me.
• Bombing thru the trees on the first half of the course. Riding hard. Getting out of the saddle to push over the small climbs. Passing other riders thru these sections.
  
• Going fast.
  
• Recovering enough on the gravel run up to catch and pass those who rode past me earlier.
• Team members cheering at all the right places; particularly the advice on which line to take before the barriers.
• Weighting the pedals to cut thru corners, shift lines, and guide my bike as I flew down bumpy sections.

Still waiting on results. I don't think they'll reflect any marked improvements over prior races, but it felt so much better! I really loved the first half of those laps. I'm looking forward to a few flatter races, and a different gear setup in time for the climbs at Astoria.