Torture on two wheels

I wasn’t very happy when I crossed the finish line of the Castell Grind.

It’d been a rough 4 hours of sun, heat and some of the siltiest sand you’ve ever ridden through.

I got some serious Robidoux vibes navigating through the sand patches, which stretched on for what seemed like miles, or sometimes jumped out at you once you hit a good rhythm, only to be thrown right back into chaos.

Robidoux was not my favorite ride for a lot of reasons, and even though I felt accomplished at the end of both of these races, I still felt defeated, tired and crampy.

Why do we like to torture ourselves like this? I was definitely questioning my sanity then and now.

But having a few days to rest and recover, to find my legs again and everything, now has me thinking that those challenges were incredibly tough for a reason.

That’s how we grow, change and get better.

It’s not always sunshine and rainbows and pretty little unicorns. Sometimes that shit is hard.

And so that is how I found myself on Saturday: slithering through sand; yelling out curses left and right as patch after patch disrupted my flow; trying so hard to fight off a quad/abductor cramp that my power was reduced dramatically; limping along for the last 15 miles as the heat and the wind just piled on to the pain; dehydrated and trying so hard to catch back up but failing miserably in the desert-dry air.

The finish line was a celebration. I couldn’t fathom why this thing sold out in 15 minutes. Who pays to do this?

I spent about 15 minutes rehydrating. I went to try to change my clothes, but then my leg actually did cramp up, and it was painful, and it was embarrassing because I couldn’t even get my pants on (I actually had to stand up outside my car to finish the job) and I was straight checked out. I couldn’t even walk down to get food. I just packed up my gear and blasted the AC and drove home to hop in the shower and wipe off the day’s pain.

Now that I’m a week out, and my legs are healing, and my resting heart rate is back down its normal low-50s range, I’m thoroughly rehydrated and relaxed, and I’m far away from any sand that might hurt me again … I’m starting to really feel like I actually kicked some ass.

I mean, I got my ass kicked (almost literally with all that washboard) … but I also conquered a seriously tough challenge, and I’m really proud of that.

I finished in 7th place for the ladies 100K race, and I was 93rd / 218 riders — with 24 DNFs on the day.

That’s a lot. It was not an easy day for anyone. I also heard veterans of this race say that this was one of the harder/hardest years just because it’s been so dry and the sand was worse than usual. I believe that! It was the same in Nebraska (and go figure, up there, it rained the day after the race … we were a little salty about that).

I feel so much more confident in the sand. I let the bike do its thing through the big patches, and that instability was frightening, but I handled it well. Sand is one of my weaknesses, for sure, and I got plenty of practice with it! I’m absolutely starting to feel like it’s less of a big deal, even though I don’t thnk I’ll ever feel like riding through it is “fun” or anything …

I set a nutrition plan with a gel every 30 minutes along with consciously drinking as often as possible. I did really well on that. Didn’t miss a gel at all, but the heat crept up toward the end (it was a hot wind) and definitely did a number on me. Still, had I not done great up until that point, I would’ve suffered even more, so I just need to keep trying to learn how my body responds to the heat and to keep making changes as the day progresses.

There’s always something to learn. I’m getting better at listening to my body and understanding my mistakes.

It’ll forever be a learning process. But it’s better than what I used to do, which was not eat, underfuel, and go as slow as possible because I thought endurance just meant that you did a good job if you finished. To be fair, that’s a goal for a lot of people, and I’m not trying to criticize it or anything. It’s my goal for Gravel Locos and the Belgian Waffle ride this year!

Sometimes, though, you want to go for it, and see what you’re made of and what you can accomplish. So that’s my state of mind lately.

I know, in the grand scheme of things, I’ll never be at the top.

But I’ll be happy and satisfied knowing I tried my best and really did push as hard as I could. Knowing I actually tried my best. I don’t care if it’s not someone else’s version of “better” or “best” … I’m just competing with me.

I’m competing with the me that never used to care about anything. That lazy version of me that wanted to sit on the couch, who would daydrink and call it a hobby, whose fuel consisted of whatever crap I could buy in a drive-thru format …

I mean, let’s be real, it’s not tough competition, right? Except the kicker is that I know that me is still there, and I don’t plan on ever letting her back to the surface.

So this is Julie version 4.1. We’ve updated since our last race, and we keep getting better, and stronger, and smarter, more compassionate and self-aware. Every day, every challenge, every race.

I wonder what version I’ll be when on when Castell rolls around next year, and what I will learn from that one, too.

A lot can happen in a year.

A lot.

So let’s roll on, head up, eyes forward, ego in check, confidence high, and mind open, ready for whatever the hell is next.

Let’s go!