From beginning to end

The poignancy of a beginning is the knowledge that there is an end. The in between is where we live, laugh, love and sail on the wings of snow pixies.

Rye and I ended our week long adventure today. This 9 year old pixie had some of the glittery dust missing on her wings on our last bump run today. She was tired and her feet were protesting the confines of a ski boot.

With that said, she tilted her helmet clad head and agreed to one more pass through the small villages of pixieland to her final destination of her human family. The adventure was over early so the memories would stay colorful.

Sadly, I know this story won't survive another child. The twist and turns of every chapter was Rye's alone. I was merely given a hall pass for a short jaunt through the eyes of her imagination.

I hope some day to look back on this week and reach for my sparkling pipe cleaners. I will put them on the arms of my reading glasses while I lie back in my comfy couch and I will sail with pixie wings to a world far, far away yet so close to my heart.

Indeed, I am a lucky gal.

Girls Rip

Disturbing as it is to feel like my skiing was sub par for the start of my season, once I put my teaching cape on, the feeling of rightness returned.

Training apprentices pokes the surface of teaching to some extent. The glow on the students faces is the same. The rainbow of attitudes is similar. But, it is a job for them.

While the hunt for the key that opens the window of learning is different from student to student, the anticipation it creates is always the same for me.

Waiting for the right signal from the student is so very difficult. Letting someone explore the boundaries of ski ability is exhilaratingly hard to do when I can see in a matter of the students first slide down the hill what the issues are at hand.

So, I lead quietly. I pull off to the side of the trail and let the student take over. I go up chairlifts and down runs chatting, laughing, prodding and leading my charge to a secure place in mind, heart and body. They always open the window to learning before I crawl in.

Last Friday I waited for Rye to let me in. She is delightful to ski with and really loves the sport. Sounds funny, huh, "loves the sport." Believe it or not, there are plenty of people who take lessons because it is a "have to" and not a "want to".

We have been skiing together for three years so our base relationship was already established. Alas, children get older and funny things happen to their minds and bodies. (I quite resent the fact that as they get older, so do I. Seems unfair really.) Fortunately for me, Rye still hasn't reached the tumultuous age where girl children and female grown-ups grate on each others nerves!

We skied for a few hours before she threw the window open so wide, the brightness and warmth of the surprise took me a bit by surprise.

She believed in fairies.

Well, so did I. Wow! We were on an instant road to success. Once we established that the twinkles in the snow were Snow Fairies, (later to be changed to Snow Pixies..story later), and grumpy ones at that, we were off to the races!

We have traveled far and wide since Friday through the villages of the dratted Snow Fairies who trip you in deep snow, Snow Mermaids who cuddle and protect the whale pods and finally to the Snow Pixies, our long last pals.

I could explain but I'm sure if I do, one of you will send men with a white jacket and long arms to my house to take me on vacation for a few short years. It is suffice to say that when Rye felt she was comfortable with me, she let me in the door of a child's imagination. The sparkle and zest swirling from that open door has gently reminded me to keep my eyes open and dreams alive.

Rye and I have a few days in front of us when we may have to battle some trolls and a gigantic wompus as we pursue steeper terrain. I believe we will be fine as we decorated a tree with candy canes as a tribute to the snow pixies.

A girl has to believe in something. Doesn't she?

Fast Lane

Winter starts like this...on your mark..lalalalalala....get ready....dodidodido...goooooooooooo! What appears to be a sauntering start to an opening season turns into a slippy slide into a congested traffic jam.

I offer my deepest apologies for the lack of posts. However, I have been deeply immersed in rebuilding small villages of snow pixies and socializing with co-workers at the end of a work day. I'll pull my act together tonight to give you a little something something about life in the fast lane at Augusta Way.

ciao, have to get ready for another day of wrestling trolls and intercepting communications from pixies.

Hold the presses, Alert the media...

....I can ski!

Yah, yah...I know...big whoop...cry me a river. But really, I...can...ski!

I thought I was washed up. A has been. Theresa who...?

But, with a twinkle of the eye, a wiggle of the ear and a rub of the tummy, my turns magically came back.

Ah, doubters, all of you..oh, there wasn't any doubters. That's not the point. It doesn't matter if a whole team of the very best of the best stand behind one person who doubts a happy ending. (NO...not THAT happy ending!)

I like to think I am a mature, reasonable person. Bwahahahahah. No, really.

I can reason and sort my way through the movement patterns of skiing with a clear head. I know my problem movements. I anticipate them and cut them off at the pass. Well, except the times I end up upside down in a pile of powder.

However, injury is a tough angle to sort out with a clear head. Especially when my income is directly related to the end result. After checking out the tune on my skis, thumbs down btw, I grabbed my friendly pair of skis preparing to venture out on to some more soft terrain. Kent E, a ski buddy/coworker, intercepted my stealthy move to weep silently in the corner alone while nursing my bruised ego and injured knee.

Let me just stray here for a moment and say something about the dangers of making friends. THEY WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU! I know, I know...this comes as a complete surprise to most souls. It's even worse with loved ones. THEY BELIEVE TIME TOGETHER IS VALUABLE AND SIGNIFICANT. Well what the hell! No one showed me the small print in the contract.
(Hopefully, either you know I'm joking or you think I'm crazy. Either thought is acceptable.)

Anyway, two hours later of collaborating with Kent and my skiing was significantly different. He said ..."you aren't flexing your left ankle in your right turn." I said..."that must be why my heel is off the sole of the boot." I fixed that.

He said..."It's flexed, now move the leg out from underneath the body." I said..."yup, yup, I know my lateral movement is stiff." I moved my legs out to the sides.

He said..."your right knee is collapsing into your left knee." I said..."damn, if I didn't feel that happen." I maintained a consistent space between my knees.

I felt myself swoop down the mountain with my momentum carrying me in a forward movement. My skis swept from side to side in a long arcing sweep with a sweet, smooth transition under my body. It was blissful!

Ok, so it was on a green/blue. You gotta start somewhere.
(We did move it to steeper terrain and to my surprise the movement held and the knee pain took a seat in the highest of bleachers watching me with the most powerful of binoculars.)

I adore my sport. I love the interchange of information between great teachers and skiers. The simplicity of our interchange and the instant results makes me realize how lucky I am to have this friend. And all friends......quietly the lights dim and the Who's from Whoville sang their Christmas song.

Isn't this story sweet?

Aren't I just a wee bit on the edge of crazy?

Some day ask me about the housekeeper who cleaned our house today for 11 hours.

Perspective

I love slinking and slithering through soft rounded bumps. The ones that are formed after a good powder day. Not too firm, yet forgiving and soundless. The paths around them are still soft and silky like talcum powder.

I've come to realize that injuring my knee is giving me great perspective. Where once I wouldn't think about mild terrain changes, yesterday my body clenched in pain and my heart squeaked in panic.

Okay, okay, that sounds a little overdone. Really what happened is my legs screamed in pain because I wasn't let my skis move over the bumps and down the hill. What was once a supple move of my legs, became a snarled up traffic jam. I squatted, I thrust my tails around the corner and allowed a full upper body rotation so I could give a peace sign to the skiers up the hill. WTF.

I know better than that.

Today, I took the feelings I remembered way back in the corner of my brain and practised on some easy terrain. Yup. It sucks when the mighty fall. Well, mostly because they leave a huge divot in the ground where their head hit first. Small villages sink into the hole, children are left parent-less....yetta, yetta, yetta. All I am saying here is the ego is a mighty weight.

Apparently my knee is playing some games with my head and my skiing. It hurts when I ski. Not like, "Oh, I did a hard bike ride and my legs feel like concrete posts." More like a sharp intrusive pain. So I figure a game of exploration was in order.

If I ski groomed, it doesn't hurt as much. Check
(Noted, groomers kind a suck.)

If I keep my turn shape in more of an 's' style rather than a 'c' style, it doesn't hurt. Check.
(Noted, unfinished turns are fun until you are on something steep and narly.)

If I edge my ski aggressively and pressure builds up as the ski passes under my body, creating a retraction type movement which requires some power to handle the spring of the ski, I get some pain feedback from the inside of my left knee.
(Noted, if I only make turns to the left, I should be able to avoid this pain.)

If I make a move to round out my turn at the finish by rotating the left femur and and lower leg in the direction of travel(we will assume my right leg is mirroring this move), I have pain in my knee.
(Noted, I can successfully execute this maneuver if allowed to finish the rotation with my right shoulder dipping into the hill.)

Well, here's the issue. If I am not actually weighting the left leg properly at the start of the turn, the pain in my knee is simply a symptom of a wrong movement pattern. Ok, well, not simply a symptom because the pain is not imaginary so something is wrong with it. But, I believe I am aggravating the pain by trying to protect the injury.

My answer is to go to my happy place. NO, not the wine cellar! I mean terrain that is mild enough to remind me of my effective movement patterns so I can transfer them back to the stuff I really like to ski.

I am a BLOODY genius!

The purpose of this post was something else entirely... It occurs to me that my injury is giving me a better perspective on my student's struggles with skiing. While the mind may be willing to learn, the body and heart may take up a spot at Custard's last stand and say, "We ain't moving from this here spot."

It would be simpler to be a monkey.

Laughter and the echo of laughter

Today was a surprise to me. My energy is endless when it comes to teaching skiing. I am warm with satisfaction when I see someone improve skiing. But, truly, I soar without wings when I glimpse a quivering smile of satisfaction when the students feel the change happen. I experienced this twice this week. That, my friends, is fantastic.

Today was also the last day of training for the newbs. I have pretty much established myself as the deliverer of one liners and light heartedness with this group. I have worked with the newbs for several years with the same trainers. Every year, the jesters hat has been hand-knit to fit my particular head. It is an easy task for me.

Anyhow, I had the tables turned on me a little. The five newbs had so many one liners and obvious camaraderie, that I pretty much laughed through my morning.

That, my friends, is refreshing.

Zoom, zoom, zoom

Right, right. Left, left. Stretching out to the furthest reaches of my sides. Long left leg, short right...long right leg, short left.

It can only be described as zoom,zoom,zoom...the feeling of moving fluidly from one turn to the next. It's a crazy snap feeling of the legs passing under the body only to zap the snow and pass back under.

There are the occasional "oh shit" moments when one leg skittishly refuses to play nice with the other. These are the moments when the hearts beats an extra beat and the ground comes up fast. But recovery occurs and zoom, zoom continues.

The snow. The snow was softly forgiving and sang the sweet sound of cold against ski, a squeaky sigh. Not the sound of skis pushing through piles of snow or the scrape of ice against edges. The air sparkled with rainbow colors and puffs of breath.

Today was a great day.

You sure ski purty.

You know the mountain bike racer, or, cyclocross racer that comes across the finish line looking fresh? Like barely a bead of sweat was broke? The shirt is not dotted with streaks of snot and dirt/mud? No grimaces of pain? ........................me neither.

So, I have never had the goal of being a purty skier. Skiing is about reacting to the terrain in the most fluid manner possible. Sometime the terrain kicks back pretty hard so balance is acutely challenged. It isn't always pretty but it is exciting and fun to maintain skills while meeting the demands.

Today. Today was about sitting in meetings for 5 hours contemplating my fear of how my knee was going to react to skiing. I have hurt my knees a whole lot. It sucks. Even with having two new acls, one new mcl and various meniscus surgeries, knee pain strikes terror in my heart.

By the time we went out, I was pretty convinced I could ski......purty. Not satisfactory. However, smooth enough that my close friends and trainers would know something was wrong but nothing the newbies and gp would recognize.

Ah, in the end, who cares about the knee. I was on the hill, teaching the sport I love. By the end of the day, the excitement and interest that was starting to gleam in the newbs eyes was more than enough to make my knee mend and my heart glow.

The Fort

This is the first year I have been able to participate in the final 'cross race of the season. Quite seriously, I think the g-o-d's were protecting me in the past because this one was cold and slippery!

But let's talk about the snow for a minute. BOORAH, HOORAY....finally we have some snow falling! I remember opening day last year at DV was one big adventure. We had plenty of snow to do the newbies ski split. So much so, that they had to negotiate a mini mogul field on their first run. Not a particularly nice thing to do on your first evaluation run.

I like driving in the snow, unlike most of the drivers on I-15. I especially like the bob and weave technique the slow drivers use. "Keep it slow, keep it slow...OH, dodge across all three lanes and....keep it slow in the passing lane....." Holy hell, you're making me crazy.

And, what is up with the black diamond lane? I know I'm not suppose to drive there because apparently the black diamond draws all the the same people who get in the expert lane for airport security and have to ask the guards whether they need to empty their change from their pant pockets. (This is after they have laboriously sorted through the oversize carry on luggage that will be taken from them at the departure gate because they won't fit in the overhead compartments.)

I always give myself enough time to get to the races so this craziness happens around me but doesn't really prick my skin, if you know what I mean.

I pulled up to the site and registered with Melissa. BTW, she was wearing a darlin' one piece ski suit that was clearly meant for a larger woman. But, still sassy on her! Once signed in, I knew I was going to race. I feel like I can pretty much throw a race to the wind until I hand in the release paper. After that, it's like signing a marriage certificate. I'm in for the good and the bad because it's just too much work to get out of it.

Fortunately, I showed up in time to get a pre ride in right after the C men. (I hope you can hear my sarcasm because it was bloody frigging cold and snowing. The last thing I really wanted to do was sweat in any way, shape or form.) Luckily, the ride was an important one. I found out my thumbs were in the first stages of frostbite after ten minutes and the course was slippery as shit! I was smart enough to wear warmer gloves with hand warmers in them, but definitely didn't learn a lesson about the slippery stuff.

I had no real intention of warming up so I spun for a VERY brief time. I rolled up to the start with my plastic pants and jacket. I gave Doc my jacket but no way was I giving the pants up. Funny enough, I never overheated in the frigid temps.

I had a clean start and stayed on my bike for all of half a lap. I went down on my hip near a sandpit by the water when I took a slippery corner a wee fast. Sigh.....fortunately my hips have floating devices naturally attached to them so I didn't get hurt but I did lose about five spots.

I was screwed for staying with the front group now so I settled for pin balling back and forth with the middle group until I stacked it again before a log. I slid pretty nicely on my rubber pants but managed to stuff my left ribs into the log for a full stop. Hence, the first injury. I'm sure they're bruised, cracked or something but they will heal.

Damn if I didn't stack it again after a sharp right hand turn, over the log...all successfully executed mind you, only to slip on the pavement and shove my left knee cap into the ground with a slight twisting. Doesn't sound good does it? It isn't. But I got back on the stupid bike.

My next fall was a sweet little slide in front of the announcers that I turned into a roll so I wouldn't struggle getting my bike off the ground. Nice...that one didn't hurt at least.

So, while I am a fairly well balanced ski athlete, I was beaten by mother nature today. I finished the race, bolted to my car and turned the heat on full blast to bring my toes back. Let me tell you, my toes came back because they hurt so much I had tears streaming down my face. Fortunately they distracted me from my now swollen knee and aching ribs.

Once my toes came back and I could actually concentrate to change my clothes and put shoes on, I bolted out of there. I wish I had the cojones to stay and watch, but I knew my knee was going to shortly be a big issue and I didn't want to get chilled again. Unfortunately, it meant I missed Doc's podium finish of third. I'm sure he had a fan club at the finish.

Home now and pretty sure my knee is not quite right but only time will tell. Unfortunately, I have hurt my knees enough times to know when it's a real injury. Simply what it means is 'cross has stolen a little bit of my aggressive skiing for a few weeks. We'll see. I should probably dig out my old knee brace just in case.

DD(Dayna) is rocking it out on the west coast of Portland. Make sure you all check in with her on facebook to see how she did....she is a stellar chick.

Homesick

I went to Heber today so my eye doc could try a hard sell for whatever the newest contacts he thinks I desperately need. Apparently I'm "of the age" where my eyesight should be leaping and bounding down a very steep slope to an engorged, savage river flowing to the deepest pits of hell, or so I'm told. After forking out some unexpected bucks for my car this week, I figure I can silently suffer through my 6 months worth of last years most excellent hard sell.

The eye doc was hardly the high point of my morning. First of all, I managed to get my car filled up for a good 30 cents a gallon cheaper at the Heber smiths compared to any gas station near me in SLC. Isn't that kind of odd? Shouldn't gas be cheaper where there's more purchase power? I hate getting screwed for a life's necessity. (For me...maybe not for you local SLC workers.)

Then, heart of all hearts, I took the dogs for a romp at the Provo river. I love this spot! I have forgotten how much I like this spot for the dogs to run free. Even better, unlike the dog park, the dogs can lay a log down in the bushes and I don't have to run over and scoop it's steaming mass off the ground. I'm all for keeping the dog parks clean but nature is nature.

I am totally content to wander around there with the dogs until they have enough fresh air and want to turn around to go back to the car. No people....surely fishermen aren't people?!.....and it's easy to walk away from the noise from the traffic on 40.

I miss Heber.

Afterwards, I hung with some of my DV peeps at El Chubasco, the best and cheapest Mexi food in the area. I wondered around a little with Kylie at PCMR while she tried on some ski pants but wasn't really into the shopping scene. I did get some Christmas gifts for Mapleleaf and Deb. I also found a sweet surprise for DD's birthday present. Heehee......

Next up, DV's employee open house on Thursday. We get to try out some smattering of food and wander through booths offering up some pro deals. We're going to wander on over to the distillery afterwards to see how it holds up under some ski instructor tomfoolery.

I get to test out my new alignment set up on Friday. New foot beds, a little redirection of my stance so I stand flatter on the skis and a lift in my right boot to accommodate my shorter leg should be a sure fire way to set me up for an embarrassing moment on skis with all the other trainers at DV. Sweet! Fortunately, I have a pretty decent sense of humor so I'll cover my potential gaff with my usual brazenness.

Where was I going with all of this? Ahhhh, I think I came to the realization with DD last night that my homesickness with Heber has a little to do with my winter season starting. As cool as all the bike chicks are, I don't see them much until June. All my winter friends are based out of PC. I feel a little like a herdless shepherd.

Sigh.....life is never exact.

Blog absenteeism

I need a ruler tapping on my knuckles. I've been a blog slacker. I don't know how it happened.

Let me flip a few pages backwards. Or, maybe a whole chapter. I have been slacking since I moved to SLC. Is it the energy sucking pollution surrounding the city that has stolen my blog mojo? Maybe it is the matter of being employed a month longer than I'm used to in the fall. Perhaps it is the lack of random wandering off into the sunset to destinations unknown.

None the less, I dislike predictability in my life to some degree. That is, chaos is a great thing. It hides all kinds of fur balls and dust bunnies in the hidden compartment of my psyche. No chaos means I get to look at the different stacks of crazy called my 'life'. Well that has got to stop. Thank g-o-d for ski season.

The race on Saturday was a disappointment only for the reason that I was last after getting a flat on the highway to hell...road climb after the start. The course was perfectly suited to me with lots of singletrack, sand and a few slippery spots. The end of the course was fast and fun. I didn't even really mind the road climb. Oh yeah, the spectators were real loud!

The best part is the course was hard enough to shut all brain functions down. No time to think about life's crazy twists and turns. Even better, I was sufficiently tired at the end that I didn't mind going to a friend's house to watch a stoooopid football game.

What's up next? Skiing, and, more skiing. Time to slide quietly on the snow, methodically moving the legs in a synchronized rhythm. It's peaceful and it is solitary, even when I have to offer my innards to appease the angry guest gods. This means absorbing all the crazy waves of emotions that come off the guest only to urinate them into a toilet later on. Sounds harsh but it is no different than being a therapist. If I owned all the positive and negative energy that occurs during the average lesson, I would be a gurgling mass of goo. Fortunately, I'm way too stable for that...ahahahahahahahah....wow, I don't even buy that one.

The cross of the big ring.

Why, why, why does a person who would be considered a master's athlete compete to the point of physical and mental disorder? When the end result is to merely finish in the top ten with left hammie burning and singed like the end of a candle stick, do I persist in crucifying myself on the cross of the big ring?

And when I say "master's" athlete, I referring to my age, not my depth of experience. I have competed successfully in many of alcohol games. I have finished in the finals of duals of sarcasm and wit. I stepped upon the podium of debauchery and fun living. I sallied with the best of loving and living.

Alas, I have not amassed a fortune in my ability to compete athletically. There in lies my confusion of why I persist in competing in a sport that does not meet my talents of surviving in human interaction and caretaking. What cross do I have to bear to put myself past the threshold of reasonable pain and mental stability? WTF!

And, why, oh why, do I still love this sport? When someone has an answer that does not include strait jackets, prescription drugs, or taking away my bikes, I'll be hanging out on a ladder painting a house in Park City.

Mt Heber state championships and ski teaching

Holy bumpy batman! Riding the Heber course was a bit like trying to stay on a bucking bronco. There wasn't much about the course that wasn't bumpy or rutted!

My only real complaint about the course is it would have been a complete blast to have the barriers set up on one of the fast sprint sections. Speed going into four barriers would have been a complete spectacle for the viewers and would have made it more interesting for me.

I didn't have a goal today. After having two weeks off of racing and gathering all my ski gear for it's annual pilgrimage to Deer Valley, I realized skiing is my sport. Not ski racing, just skiing. Not bike racing, but skiing.

I love 'cross. I will keep racing 'cross until I can't lift my bike over the barriers because the swing from my curtains(sagging triceps) gets in the way of my vision or knocks me over sideways. It is my excuse for pure dark chocolate indulgence and bottles of taste bud twitching Cabernet's.

But racing my 'cross bike doesn't engage my senses like skiing. I finished my race today extremely happy with my effort. I drove to my trainer meeting at DV thinking how much I really hope I don't have to work opening day at DV so I could race.

I walked into the meeting room and was engulfed with such a sense of well being and belongedness that I realized how much I love my winter work. By the time we finished our meeting, I was yearning for my ski season to start and was ready for the end of 'cross. Blasphemy.

I'm good at 'cross, not anything spectacular. I don't train enough. I don't have a deep enough athletic background to excel. I don't want to work for it. I love it for what it is.

Skiing. Not only does it feed my need to understand and solve things in parts, it feeds my desire for freedom. Sliding down a hill, slithering through bumps, ducking through trees all let me be alone in a small amount of space while still being with friends and clients. It feeds my soul...bleck, how corny.

Anyway, today was a great day. 'Cross race and ski teaching all in one day. Nothing tops that.

Maple leaf

So last night I went to dinner with my fave gal, Shelagh, a.k.a, Maple leaf, the Canadian.


We both began working at Deer Valley in '96', (er, right Shelagh? I always forget how long I've been there.) The forces of the universe were working that day because we sat next to each other on orientation day. (Perhaps if the forces had known what kind of grief we would dole out as a duo, the decision would have played out a little differently.)

We hit it off immediately despite the fact that she was from a distant foreign country and clearly didn't understand English very well. Ahahahahahahahaha, I love dishing it out to the Canadian sometimes!

We bonded as friends. It occurred to me the other evening that I've been in a relationship longer with her than with any of my intimate relationships. (Clearly sex messes relationship up.) We have had our share of mishaps and laughter. She has had an emergency travel fund stored so she can bail me out of whatever country or relationship I happened to be mired in.....(as a side note, she likes I"m currently in SLC. A tank of gas is nothing compared to a last minute flight to Slovenia!)
Why would I possibly write about a person who comes from a country with absolutely no military power or weapon capabilities?!

It occurred to me after dinner that she is not just a great friend but she has been a mentor for me as a skier. She rocks it on skis. She has the attitude that no lesson is too much or too hard. She slips into her leadership roll at DV with the ultimate ease. She is a true professional.

So when she complimented me on my skiing, I felt genuinely grateful that she believed in me. I know, I know..I still have to put up with her complete disregard for Vermont maple syrup, but someday she will see the folly of her dysfunctioning taste buds.

I hope Maple leaf and I have a bank vault size of future memories to live.

Choo, choooooo train of sanity is leaving the station.

Seven days off the bike. That's how I know winter is approaching.

Weird how my interest in cycling just turns off like a valve. This cold stuff is only meant for skiing. I can wear lots of layers and I don't have to suffer climbing up hills. The skiing part isn't much exercise but I get plenty of exercise hauling people around on the end of my poles and tugging them out of snowbanks.

I'm hiking today because it keeps me warmer than making circles.

People who make me proud

Go check out the Monavie/Cannondale site. Bart, Matt, Alex....all of the team, you do Utah proud!

"I'll spot you while you're on the ladder Mum........."

Whenever life gets me a little or a lot down, I look into Rocky and Bella's faces. Their big brown eyes and wagging tails make all life's little woes disappear.

And, seriously, dpgs are way cooler than cats anyway.

Ready for snow

I had a revelation on Sunday while I was walking the hounds up on Empire. I'm ready for skiing and snow. It's time for the bike to be put away and to get my binding function test done on my skis.

I'm ready for all leaves to be covered in snow. It's time to throw the snow tires on the car, for ice particles to form on my nostril hairs and the sound of crunching snow from parking lot four to Snow Park lodge to begin.

The sounds of accents, the recounting of summer, the rush of joy when I see my winter friends is right around the corner.

It's better than Christmas morning.

It is time for winter.

Wheeler race numero dos

If you look real close, you can see the wily Maine coon cat sitting in the window teasing my great white Hunter. We got to listen to two wild chases during the early morning hours. Fortunately cat 2, dogs 0.

What to say about the second race this weekend?

You know the anxiety you feel when you have to go to the dentist and you know he's going to want to stick a needle in your jaw to get rid of that niggling pain you have had for a few months? And what you are really afraid of is he's going to say is, "Sorry Mother Theresa, we're going to have to pull that tooth because you have a full fledged infection in the root." So, he does the root canal and you think you're in the clear, only you still have a niggling pain in your jaw and it's now crawling up to your eyeball and ear. Clearly you think you're dying and you very well may be. But, the real problem is he didn't get all the junk from the root and he has to drill again. You sit in the chair thinking maybe having all my teeth pulled is a better long term option. Dentists...and they wonder why no on likes them!

Well, second race day terror is a little like that. The fear of how bad my legs were going to feel has a way of building up from a sensible/reasonable expectation that I should be tired to a snarly, saliva dripping fanged monster living under my bed ready to snack on my foot as soon as it hits the floor. It is amazing how my imagination is capable of terrorizing my common sense into a scawling infant.

Amazingly, I felt great. My legs were strong like bull. Okay, that's a slight exaggeration but I'm allowed to do that on double race weekends. I put in a good two laps on the course around 10:15am, got a great 45 minute warm-up, pushed out another lap to see if my rear tire was still holding air(it was) and I was pretty much ready to go.

When we lined up, I knew I felt as good as I could for a second race day. I started hard and pushed myself for the whole race. For the very first time, I didn't have that initial thought of, "What the hell am I doing?!" I felt great and tried to ride as hard as I could.

The course suited me a bit because it was fast with lots of single track. I loved the sharp turns, the couple of short steep shots downhill and for the first time the double track didn't beat the hell out of me. I held 6th for the first half of the race until Meara passed me with a lap and a half to go. I tried chasing her but she's all of 12, kidding, but I wasn't able to stay on her wheel.

I am afeared to say that my fitness may be turning a positive corner with half the season over. Typical for me!

Doc conned me into a cool down after the race by promising me a cappuccino that was only .5 miles away....liar... I did get my coffee and he did get me to cool down, so we'll call it a win/win situation.

Right now I am questioning my sanity about doing a double race next weekend. But who am I kidding..sanity is not high on my list of things I want for Christmas!

Wheeler race number 1

So I packed up my devil horns and dress, including forked tail and headed on over to Wheeler Farm. I was sturdy in my belief that 2.5 hours of riding this week was going to ensure me a spot on the podium of satisfaction. ( I only rode 1.5 hours more this week than last week because Darrell was starting to question his original assumption that I was dedicated to the sport of making circles.)



Fortunately the podium of satisfaction is not a concrete entity and can be defined on an individual level. My definition started with that my forked tail was successfully pinned to the back of my dress and not poking me in my anal region. Once I had that mastered, I was at a total loss of what my next goal should be for the race.



THE RACE.....oh yeh, it was about the race not the costume. I only worked 2.5 days this week so my legs were abnormally stress free. Darrell cooked me a waffle and omelet for breakfast so my tummy was happy. I got a great warm up on the trainer. My bike is still not shifting correctly. I chose to keep it out of the big ring rather than have an pre race spat with Doc. All was good.



The start was crazy. Not only was the start official an incompetent nincompoop, but the start area wasn't roped off. Logistically what this means is anyone who is feeling especially anxious will get up in the front row even if it means starting off the road and on the grass. Bad choice since there was a little incline to get back on the road for the take off.



Nincompoop said go to the lady A's only to have them pile up in a big crash 10 feet from the start. Total chaos. They say human's are separated from chimps by several things, one of them being a higher order of intelligence. Lady B's totally negated that assumption when they repeated the same crash as the A's 15 seconds later! I peeled off to the left as I saw Lisa F doing a wheelie into the whole mess. Crazy!

The total good news of the whole race is I didn't get my forked tail caught in any moving parts of my bike. The total bad news of the result was I got a compression flat with one lap to go! Total bummer!

After the crash, I got on Robin's...BAM, POW*...a.k.a. Melissa's wheel and stayed with her until she got around one chickie and I was stuck behind....story of my life don't you know. The single track was tacky, twisty and fun. The ground was a bit lumpy, probably the reason for my later flat.

For once, I didn't lose energy in the middle of the race. I felt strong and was steadly picking off opponents. The fact that people were strewn all over the course with technicals helped me out as well. Until I flatted.

I could see one more woman I thought I could pick up just as I felt my rear tire start to slide out some. I felt the rim burp on the ground and knew I was done. Oh well.

I carried my bike in with one lap to go. Darrell asked me if I wanted to finish the race and he would fix the tire but I said no. I didn't want to just finish. I wanted to be in that same spot with the same opportunity to catch another woman's wheel.

Tomorrow is another day and another race on the books. I am so tired now but am looking so forward to racing again!