To my loyal readers

Last Thursday we had a bad Thunderstorm and winds that knocked out the phone lines and internet. Gregory and I have been bumming internet from the neighbors and fighting with the local company to get our connection(s) fixed. So far I am working with a blinking USB that magically supplies me with wireless (compliments of the network company 1 week after the fact!!) Anyhow, all is well....just waiting for everything to be fixed before catching up!!

Cheers!

Still Alive!

Don't worry, I am still around....

Things have been hectic and busy with MANY changes going on as of late! But, these are exciting changes (for the most part) that I will write about soon in a new post.

And no mom, I am not pregnant! LOL!

But in the mean time, let me leave you with this, life will pull you in many different directions and sometimes you may find yourself conflicted. At those times, follow your heart and your desire. Don't EVER let anyone tell you that you are less than what you are worth or bring you down for their own benefit! But, always keep an open mind and be respectful.

More on my adventures in a day or two!! promise!

Last Chapter: The Final Countdown, 21 turns and counting....

So, we left off in Bourg D'Oisans at an aid station... I was not doing so hot...but then...

The skies parted and the sun shone through (cue sentimental music) and illuminated the sweet nectar of rejuvination in a blessed volunteer hand. In that little white styrofoam cup lay the key to my success, PEPSI. Yes, that is right, I would survive because I had found PEPSI!! And for all of those who are aware of my food allergies, no-no's and everything I do to preserve my GI; all bets were off at this moment!! I was going nuts on the stuff, 3 cups of pepsi and 2 slices of "European ham" (the really salty and fatty stuff that I NEVER EAT) I was ready to rock and roll!!

Looking at my watch I knew I had 1 hr and 55 minutes to climb Alpe D'Huez and make "gold-standard" time, which amazed me! I had never suspected or done the math until now to see where I was at time-wise since my primary goal was to finish (and I still wasn't certain of that either!) Knowing that anything was possible in the final strech of any long distance event, I decided to hurry up and move my tush in the forward direction...out of the aid station and onto the road.

My legs screamed at me when I got back onto my bike, and I knew it would be the LONGEST 13 km of my life on a bike, and I started to cry. I biked the short stretch which passed by the campgrounds at the base of Alpe D'Huez with all the fantastic specators and families cheering and I cried some more. Deep down inside, I knew that I would finish permitting nothing out of my control or medical-related stuff happens (it has happened to me before, I never count it out) it was the knowledge of what awaited me; those 21 turns that would strip away every last layer, and every last ounce of why I "thought" I should do this and will leave me with "why" I did this...and that is for another blog post...

So, I entered the Alpe D'Huez climb anticipating the "hellish" start; 3 km at 12 % Surprisingly though, it was not too bad or perhaps I had lost my mind already??? Actually, I was going at a slow and steady pace and climbing modestly. It was all that I had...

Turns 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, and 16 passed...finally arriving at 15 the climb levels out to a "relatively" easy 8% for 5 more turns. The sun was glaring down and I was burning up. The Pepsi was coming back to haunt me with rancid burps and I was in complete misery, but strangely embracing it. Forcing down water, and focusing on my heart rate; I could feel my heart beating hard and my head was exploding with every beat. This is a strange phenomena that happens to me..when I am absolutely wasted, tired and spent, I cand do a hard, hard effort (frist 3 km of Alpe D'Huez), but my HR doesn't catch up until I have time to relax; so when we hit that 8% zone of the climb the semi-truck hit me head on! and I knew to expect it. The goal was to make it to turn 10 and then stop....no and, if's or but's! it was my plan and I was dead-set on it. So I kept evaluating how i felt, if I needed to slow down more, and I took my sweet time on the corners where you could spin and catch your breath.

Everywhere I looked there were "man-down" scenarios" at every turn on the climb at least 20 riders were resting and some were lying on the ground. It had gotten so hot and some riders so desperate that they sought refuge under the minute amount a shade the trees provided on the oncoming traffic side of the road. Along the climb there are breaks in the stone wall that flow with mountain water...as I was nearing turn 11 all I saw was at least 15 riders huddled in a circle and I wondered "what the heck are they doing?" Turns out all of them were splashing their heads with the cold water. I was in total awe, yet understanding of each and every one of these riders. We all started 8-9-10 hrs early with a common purpose and we were ALL suffering. It was silent empathy...

Finally, turn 10 and I could not unclip soon enough...I thought I was going to pass out. It took me a good 3 minutes to get my HR to come back down and I knew I needed to eat something. So as much as I hated it, I ate one of my "boiled" gels. Surrounding me were about 25 other riders, camped out for the moment...all of them male. I cannot put into words the commradery you feel at this point. Each and every one of those males knodded at me, and 10 of them encouraged me and told me to keep going. One of them held my bike as I got ready to conquere the remaining 10 turns. And then a push from the saddle; those guys would eventually make it to the top, but the fact that they helped me during a time that must have been just as hard for them as me will never leave my head. Chivalry is not dead!

Then as I started turn 10-9 (10-9-8) are some of the hardest in my opinion, the HR came back up faster than a rocket and so did the gel. So, some poor rider had to bike through my green "apple cinnamon" Hammer Gel. At least I knew nutrition was out of the question till the finish, so not to waste my time or energy on it. Water was still staying down, which was good.

When you get to turn 7 you can see the top of Alpe D'Huez, which always solidifies the finish for me. But, the question was "how long till the finish" In my mind I was moving backwards. I cannot really describe what was going through my head at this point other than focusing on keeping the legs pushing; it was all that was left.

Everything was a haze, and absolute haze to me until the last 3 turns. Maybe it was because I was focusing so much on not giving up, not stopping and blocking out the pain. But at turn 3, you see a HUGE red Marmotte logo (official Logo of the Marmotte) and I had to force a smile. All I could thing of is "I am doing a ride that is in honor of a fu*&ing prarie dog!" I am sure those around me must have thought I was nuts to be giggling at this point. But, the giggling stopped quickly as it used up valuable energy and oxygen. turn 2 and 1 passed and I was in the homestretch; just 1 km left to go once the tough part is over. When I crested the last big climb into the village and I saw the 1 km sign, I started to choke up..and tear up...and cry. I remember that last km so vividly; although it was probably the least beautiful and exciting part of the course. The finishing arch/balloon was pretty cool though...and thank GOD the final 25 meters were flat!

I came into the finishing chute with a new level of respect for the sport of cycling and a new level of respect for myself. This was an absolutely unbelievable and unforgetable experience. There is nothing that I can ever compare this ride to; it is not Ironman, although the difficulty level of it surpasses Ironman in my opinion.

I left the race site with a huge GOLD medal...and I am extremely happy and proud for that. But, more important to me are the memories and moments of self-discovery throughout this journey. It has been a long, long time since I have felt like this and I feel like I have rediscovered why I do/enjoy these events. I have been looking for this feeling/rememberance for a long time and I am going to hold on to it.

Chapter...I can't remember, but I am sure it is too much: Are we there yet??

The descent from Galibier to Lautaret is a little technical, but not the worst ever. No, there are no guard rails and no, traffic was NOT closed for this descent (it adds to the excitement!)

After bundling up at the top of Galibier and refilling my water bottles, I was set to go, but there was one thing missing...the desire to eat!! I had lost all motivation to eat and was feeling rather ill. So, I figured "I have carbo-pro in my bottles and it is a descent, so I will be fine till Bourg d'Oisans and then eat" As you can tell, I was totally, 100% coherent and thinking straight (with the altitude and effort, Galibier is like putting a few glasses of wine into me....not that you would have to force it:)

So down I went; 8 km to Col du Lautaret...however, at km 2, my tummy decided it was time to "go". Not sure if it was the nerves, the fatigue or stress of descending 12% hairpins in a raging thunderstorm. Regardless, I was really hammering those last 6 km to get to a toilet. Lets just say that it was the quickest bike-to-run-to-toilet transition I ever had. The biggest struggle was finding my 20 euro cents in my back pocket to get into the washroom (yes, they make you pay in Europe). With my business taken care of I hopped back on my bike and even bypassed the Nougat roadside stand/store to get back on the road; I was ready for this ride to be over!

After Lautaret, the descent is pretty wide-open; there are steep parts, flat parts that you need to pedal on, and even some hills. Mostly though, it was long...it seemed to go on forever!! The biggest concern about this descent is not how technical or steep it is, but the wind, and today, it was autrocious!! Thankfully, there were a number of packs that had formed that you could hop onto that would block some of the wind. About 1/3 of the way down, it had warmed up and I was boiling in my jacket. So I made the wise decision to abandon my "pack" and pull over to reomove my gear; and then hopped onto the next "pack" that came along.

Then you hit the tunnels. The tunnels are the most surreal things ever, especially when you are riding with a bunch of other cyclists. You REALLY need to pay attention. Going from daylight into a tunnel with sunglasses on puts the tune "I wear my sun glasses at night" into my head. I am grooving to my own tunes, when, bam!! all of a sudden you hear a bunch of yelling!

"ARRET, STOP, HALT, THE WORD STOP IN OTHER LANGUAGES!" and at the same time brakes locking up, screetching... Thankfully, my "paranoid descending" comes in handy at these times and had no problem stopping. Turns out there had been a huge accident at the end of the tunnel "car vs. bike" and you can imagine who won. We were all held up by the police and medics until they could clear the poor guy. Definitely shook me up.

Then if seeing the bloody mess wasn't bad enough, right out of the tunnel is a steep incline (I think the guy tried to shift and swerved into oncoming traffic or had a mechanical that caused him to cross the middle line). I was in NO mood to have my legs climb a hill after 45 minutes of descent..even if it was a LITTLE one. But, it's not like I can change that, can I? so I start pedaling up the base of the hill in the big ring and try to shift to my small and "CLANK, CLANK, CLANK" DAMMIT!! I had dropped the chain. No big deal, just get off the bike and put the chaing back on, right?? well, yes, but when you are tired, cranky and low on sugar it is the WORST thing ever...or at least it seemed though at the time. So I cursed, and cursed and cursed as I put the chain back on and climbed the hill. All the guys around me must have thought that I was not being to "Lady Like" LOL But, because I am so smart about my nutrition and when I am bonking (NOT...poor Gregory gets bitched at a lot when I am hungry but refuse to acknowledge it) I decided to eat another chocolate bar...or at least have a bite before descending again. that surely was enough to fuel me to the end of the descent, I was SURE of it (yes, I was delusional)

The rest of the descent was pretty uneventful; there was one more 3 km section of climbing, a steep descent, more wind, extreme heat, and more hunger....lovely!

So when we finally entered the last 5 km stretch to Bourg D'Oisans I was extremely happy! This is a strech of road I do on the days when I have a "flattish" ride, and it is also very windy. Maybe it was my eagerness to stop and eat or the relief that all the descents were over, but I was cruising...along with 20 other men sucking my wheels. I mean, c'mon, at least one guy had to be faster than me?? No one decided to take a pull, so I threw snot rockets. Another lady-like move, I know! So, I pulled the guys in to the aid stop and fell off my bike when I unclipped, not a good sign....

So, before I continue, with the final and last chapter of this "journey" I have to explain the title of this one. With about 15 minutes left to go in descent, there is a big sign put up by the race-organizers indicating that there is 20 km left to go to the finish. But, the sign makes it sound so easy....it would be like the kids in the back of the car asking "are we there yet" and you would say, yes, in 10 minutes!! Not this 20km!! I had to laugh and cry at the same time, because I knew what lay ahead. You see, although I covered 7 of those 20 km in 15 minutes, it would take me 1 hr and 25 minutes to cover the final 13...

Welcome to Hell kid!

Chapter 5: God Is That You??

Galibier is a very decieving climb...it is relatively "easy" until the final 8 km. Those of you who have read my previous blog entries have heard me refer to the last 8 km as the "WOW" of the climb. These final 8 km are what breaks you, mentally, physically and emotionally.

Leaving Valloire I knew that there would be no room for self-doubts or weakness, I would take the "monster" head on. During the climb to Telegraph, I was riding with a few Spaniards and through jumbled English and Spanish, we all agreed to call Galibier the "MONSTER" Low and behold, through my two pit stops and their stops, I ended up tailing the same Spanish men during the Galibier climb; I guess you could say I "latched on" and I think they were happy to have someone with them who would still try and talk and smile (although it was getting few and far between).

During the "easy" part of the climb (that sounds SO wrong) I watched the storm brewing, hoping, and praying that it was not really in our direct path. Sometimes the storms/clouds can be decieving and actually be over another mountain. Unfortunately, the farther I climbed the more sure I was that we were headed directly into a storm. Knowing that it would most likely get nasty, I reached back to make sure I hadn't lost my wind jacket and gloves; I also started loading up on nutrition as we were going to start the sharp 8 km ascent to the top and in between the effort and altitude it is hard to keep things down. It was already a struggle to keep my Carbo Pro and gels down...hmmm, not a good sign.

It was like I was in the tour....we were approaching the dreaded 180 degree turn which marks the " WOW" portion and you can see the first 2 km of the hellish climb that awaits you..although this time around it is a lot more apparant with the line of cyclists egding up the cliff. Mr. Spanish #1 looked back at me and grinned, you can tell he was a regular of this sort of climbing; his friend, Mr Spanish #2 was doing just about as good as me and we both looked at each other and grimaced. Like Lance, Mr Spanish #1 took off...for the time being....

Mr Spanish #2 and I took the turn with care and ease as we both knew this would be the last chance of any sort of rest or "catching our breath" before the top. And so up we went...and as if it was part of a script, we headed up at 9% incline looking directly into black thunderclouds (honestly, we were the height of the clouds, it was out of this world!) and this HUGE CLAP OF THUNDER rumbled...the road shook and I just about crapped my pants. The wind was whipping in our faces and all I could question is "GOD, is that you? because I am sooo scared, but in such awe of what is going on around me" The experience was surreal! Every corner we turned and went up, the closer we got to the black clouds and the thunder would shake us and the roads...I was waiting for the downpour...or the strike of lightening to hit my aluminum frame.

km 8 passed, then km 7...then km 6 and all we got was extreme wind, a few pellets of rain and ground shaking thunder. But just like an Oasis in a dessert, as you weave your way around the first side of the mountain onto the back side you see the break in the clouds and that it is sunny on the other side of Galibier. Sooo..if I make it over the top, there will be a little reprieve. And just as I had that thought, a huge gust of wind passed by and almost knocked me off my bike and all I could think was: "I know GOD, I should not count my chickens before they hatch, but could you please cut me some slack?? I am tired, I have bad gas, my belly hurts, I don't want any more gels, it is my ANNIVERSARY ! and I know I do stupid things like these bike rides and Ironmans, but please, please, can we get through this without any life altering events, trips to the ER or drama??....I promise not to ask you for anything like this until Ironman Wisconsin..promise!!"...well, God must have been listening because although the wind, thunder and crap your pants ligthening continued, the skies did not open up on me.

I continued trudging up Galibier at a snails pace with Mr Spanish #2, both of us in our own worlds, pushing our bikes pedal stroke by pedal stroke. I must admit, and I try not to do this, but I took other people's weakness as my strength. When my feet were killing me and I was ready to stop, I looked at those lying on the side of the road, stopped, streching cramps and downright done; I told myself "c'mon, you are not at that point yet, you can do this..don't stop, don't stop!" And at that moment I looked up and Mr Spanish#2 must have done so as well, because there was his buddy dying a long slow death after his first surge up the climb. So we caught up to Mr Spanish #1 and would not let him drop. Little was said at this point because it was just too hard to speak and pedal.

These final km to the summit were not too interesting..it was sooo quiet, just breathing and wind....

Then at 2 km to go, you have a clear view of the top, and although I had seen it before all I could think was "HOLY S*&T" that is a lot of vertical distance to cover in 2 km...but, I knew that I could not stop, give up or give it any less than I had because that is not me; this was a real self-discovery part of the ride for me. Over the past year I have been struggling with a lot of self-trust issues and "fear" due to many events that have happened during my racing and training. Today, I was brought back to the roots of why I do these events, because it is not always about how fast you are or what expensive bike/equipment you own, it is what gets you from point A to B when you stip everything away, when it is just you, your heart and your desire....an MY desire was HUGE today.

So going into those 2 km I focused on every minute, every pedal stroke, every breath...and every bit CLOSER I was to the summit. At one km left to go Mr Spanish #2 pulled ahead and I kept focus on his wheel, but he was going faster, so I let him go. But before doing so, he looked back at me; not Lance style, but an empathetic look and he spoke somthing I did not understand in Spanish, but I am sure it was along the lines of "keep going, you will make it"

And with that I was on my own (I never saw Mr Spanish again)...with the snow piles edging by me as I plugged along. I looked down when I was 500 meters from the top and I was in absolute awe. All you could see for miles down the mountain was a stream of cyclists riding into a raging thunderstorm. Then it was 400 meters, 300 meters, 200 meters...100 meters...then the BEEP of the chip crossing the timing mat. I have made it to the summit of Galibier.

All I could do was pull over, wheezing and fighting back the "sick" that was creeping up the back of my throat. It was then that I realized that this was just more than a bike ride, this was epic in all proportions, this was the Ironman of the cycling world.

And now, I had to keep my shit together for an hour of descending....and that is when I asked God again "Please keep me safe today"....

Chapter 4: Col du Telegraphe

After my water break, it was a quick 500 meters through the village, a sharp right hand turn and then back up into the mountains

So a great trick to make the "journey" seem not so long is to combine Col du Telegraphe and Galibier as one....I like to think of it as the "grand-slam", "go all the way, or go home". So, heading back up into the mountains, I just kept the 34 km notion in my mind, with a stop in the middle to refuel.

To be honest, Col du Telegraphe is not that hard and actually an enjoyable climb; it is what I like to call the "warm-up" for what awaits. There are only a few parts that go above 8% and it averages around 6.5-7%; it is definitely a treat in comparison to Glandon. But damn! it was hot! It was the middle of the day and the "forest" that usually makes this climb beautiful with the shade and odd rays of sunshine bursting through the trees was nowhere to be found. We had direct sunlight. I tasted the salt of my sweat and my head throbbed! I took extra salt tablets for fear of a Nice/hyponautremia reoccurance. And throughout this, all I kept telling myself is "don't push, just keep it nice and easy...if you push, it will all be over before you hit the top". Then my feet started to hurt; dammit! not one day, minute, or second over the last 3 weeks of training have me feet hurt! What the heck is going on...I was pissed so I decided the best thing was to deliberately ignore it "Take that feet! I do not want to feel you anymore! I am on strike from my feet! Go away"...it worked for a 5 nanoseconds. It's not you could clip out one foot and shake it out; actually, I tried but almost fell over, trying this on a climb is not a good idea. Sooner or later...as many of you know who do endurance events, these aches and pains become normal and they soon become a dull noise in the background...

I climbed around another switchback around halfway up Telegraphe and I didn't know whether to smile or crap my shorts. I saw the dark clouds bubbling up in the sky; they were menacing and dangerous looking. Good news is this meant the sun would soon go away; bad news is that I was riding an aluminum bike and did not want to get electrocuted in a thunderstorm. I knew that if this was any other environment/setting that I didn't need to worry; perhaps 2-3 hours before this storm passed overhead...I would be long gone and out of harms way. Not in the mountains. The mountains are treacherous when it comes to weather. Rule of thumb: always, always, ALWAYS check the forecast before you head out for a ride/run; otherwise you might end up not coming home....I think I recalled seeing thunderstorms in today's forcast.

After spending almost a month in the Alpes I have seen enough bad weather to scare the daylights out of me. The storms move light freight trains, and by the time they appear, it is too late to get out of the way. So, knowing that I would most likely encounter some "nasty weather" I double checked I had my rain jacket and gloves and tried to think happy thoughts.

Telegraphe arrived in a flash and I realized I was a bit behind on my hydration, so rather than stopping at the summit, I decided to chug my current bottle of water/Carbo Pro and descend a few km to Valloire and stop there. From what I recall, one of the biggest aid stations was supposed to be there. So down the mountain I go and I enter the village of Valloire and am directed into a timing chute for the chip to record my time. However, everyone keeps going and olny a handful of folks are stopped. I was thinking "this is not the aid station I imagined". First, the food was in the form of a "Sandwich Stand" 5 Euros for ham and bread. The water was coming from a fountain (one of those decoration fountains where the marble angel statue is peeing) which 50 riders and their best friends were trying to fill up their bottles. I got tired of waiting to fill up my bottle and wandered to the grocery store across the street and bought a bottle of water and a chocolate bar (Mars bars are awesome in Europe...absolute HEAVEN). At this point in time my stomach was in total revolt so I didn't give a rats ass about what I was eating anymore, just as long as it tasted good. After my pit stop it was off to start the climb to Galibier...

So through the town of Valloire I went, bracing for the initial km of the climb which is pretty knarly....That first little effort up the hill let me know that chugging the last bottle of Carbo-Pro and Mars bar was not such a good idea; I was about ready to pull a "squat in the bush" when low and behold the infamous Valloire aid station appeared in the near distance. It was like an Oasis in the middle of the desert...and I found my treasure, a real BATHROOM! yes, a real, honest to goodness bathroom. Not a blue plastic dome that smells bad, but a public bathroom that had been cleaned within the past week, what a treat! So I went about my business (Thank GOD!) and was ready to head on my way when I took a moment to look around me. Because I had already stopped for food/drink I didn't bother with any of it at this stop...and I was glad; this aid stop was like feeding a famine! hundreds of riders lined up for bowls of soup and sanwiches (kind of like a soup kitchen) and the volunteers were dishing it out as fast as they could. Kudo's to the volunteers!

You could definitely tell at this point that the ride was beginning to take it's toll. The medical tent was full at the valloire stop and every direction you looked there were riders streching, working out cramps, eating and lookind pretty tuckered. I tried to keep my head focused on the goal and not get the local carnage get to me...but, truth be told, I was getting tired. There were 17 km's left untill the top of Galibier and a storm was a brewing.....

Chapter 3: Is it possible to fry eggs on your helmet??

I know, I left you in suspence..but since I am writing this blog, you all know i survived the Glandon descent.

After I got tackled by the the cop/security man, I decided it was time to test my luck and get my butt down the mountain. The great thing was I was not the only one who thought this descent was totally INSANE!! at every corner for the fist 2 km, there was a volunteer dressed to the nines in neon (last year a rider ran one off the cliff killing both of them...hence the extra-neon this year) directing riders and keeping it at a reasonable pace. No one, and I mean NO ONE did the insane, crazy, dive bomb for the first 2 km, which I was thankful for. In my dreams the week preceding La Marmotte I had scenarios of crazy men trying to get around me on the descent and forcing me over the guard-rail...oh wait! there was not guard rail!..perhaps, that is what the neon-volunteers were for....

I was actually ok for the first 2 km of the descent, but then things got ugly...our first slow down was due to ambulances because some riders decided it was a good time to speed up on the final descending radius turn. Lets just say that there were 3 ambulances and a lot of trashed bikes.

This is a common theme amongst this descent although the tough part was over....I actually almost had my own little accident....

Yes, that is right, Ms. Paranoid descender let the adrenaline and "in the moment" get to her head...and when she realized that she was going TOO FAST and that there was a >120 degree turn that other riders were braking for and she did not brake soon enough..and THEN the wheels started to skid........ lets just say that I BARELY made it; someone was looking out for me on that one, there is no reason why I should have still been upright on my bike with out a scratch or concusion. That knocked some sense into me; lets just say MANY people passed me after that point.

So, now that I had the "SAFE CHEWY" hat on and descended like a slug (it was my anniversary so arriving at the finish/home with road rash and a concusion was not a good idea; I can't believe my husband was OK with this in the first place) I took pleasure in watching others descend; there were riders who took the turns beautifully with great bike handling skills and at safe speeds for them (waaay too fast for me); I was in absolute awe. Then there were the A-HOLES who would bomb by at a ridiculous pace into oncoming traffic (I saw one almost hit a car windshield but he swerved in time to hit the bush/trees instead); I think they lost their brain cells earlier in life (in total, I witnessed 5 crashes or remenants of crashes during this descent) And then, ofcourse, was me...Mrs. Slug, brakes squeaking at every corner but happy to make it to the bottom alive...phew...glad that was over...or was I???

The next part of La Marmotte is supposed to be the "easiest" part because it is the "flattest"...ummm yeah... 25 km at 3-4% average with rolling hills is REALLY flat. Then add Boulder strength HEADWIND, 30 degrees celcius with NO shade in a mountain valley and you get a 30 km journey through an inferno. Good thing is that you are still surrounded by MANY people so there is always a draft and min-peleton to help out.

First thing at hand was to EAT; that was a 45 minute descent without food or water (don't EVER take your hands off the handlebars) so I dug in for my cookies, but they were mush...bloody hell! I shoved what I could into my mouth; somehow hot gluten-free cookies taste the same as Nestle Tollhouse when they come out of the oven, so I loved that. But, I knew it was not enough calories, so I resorted to my gels which were disgustingly HOT...ugggghhh. So there i was with melted chocolate cookies smeared over my face trying to take in a what seemed a boiled gel while following a pace line...but the pace line was too slow! (I know, poor, poor me)

The problem I encountered during La Marmotte was that i lost all the guys I was climbing with on the descent because I am so slow going down the mountain, so when I arrive at the flats I have no-one at my pace. So I played a game; catch the group in front of you, suck some wheels for a bit while eating, drinking and recovering, then go again. I played hopscotch with the mini-peletons. Finally with about 7 km to go to the base of the next climb, a group about my speed cruised by and I hopped on; it was a blast. I must say I absolutely LOVE drafting!

When we finally arrived at St Michel de Maurienne, I pulled over to refill my bottles as I was parched after an hour in the sun. Also, because I had not been following my "allergy-diet" 100% I was having a few "issues" and was in need of a porto-john. Cool thing is they had 3 specifically set-up for girls!! The guys had to go in public; they pretty much had a cicular trough where 5 of them at once could whip it out and go in public. No me though, I am a modest lady, LOL! So, I waited in line, took my turn, refilled the bottles, and had some SALT. It was sooo ridiculously hot at this time and nearing mid-day so all those trees on the climb to Telegraphe would be providing no shade.

Below is a map of the course and the pink indicates how far I had travelled so far.

It dawned on me then, with my white and blue helmet and with white clothes...if I am THIS HOT, how are the cyclists in black dealing with it? Then gigglind to myself I imagined frying eggs on the pavement or on a hemet...Really funny until I realized this ride wasn't even 1/2 way over yet...then I realized that if I was thinking these thoughts already, what was to come? THEN I realized that this was going to get a hell of a lot harder.....

Chapter 2: Col du Glandon

So, the journey begins at 4:30 am, France time...so in other words, all you party goers in America were still out on the night when I was carbo loading with rice before 5 am!

There is something very strange and peculiar about boiling rice when it is dark out in the morning. Anyhow, back to the subject matter at hand. After I managed to force down some food and slather on sunscreen, chamois cream and bug repellant, I was out the door to make the 12 km treck to Bourg d'Oisans where the ride began.

Allemont, Bourg d'Oisans and all the other villages are NOT very big, they are actually pretty tiny. I don't know what the population is, but it is small! perhaps a couple hundred people in each village if that. So, how the heck to do fit 7000 riders into an area that small? Well, you pretty much use up the ENTIRE village. Yes, that is correct, for those of us seeded in the final wave (over 3000 of us) we had to go to go to go past the village into a "corral" that fed us into the village from the outskirts.

To be truthful, I was not very happy at first to know that I was in the last wave. That meant over an hour of waiting and by the time we were on our way the sun would be out in full force and the wind would be picking up (if you think Boulder wind is bad...which it is! wait until you come ride in the valleys of the French Alpes!). But, I tried not to think about it and actually made a nice conversation with a man from Belgium who spoke great English. This was his 3rd time doing La Marmotte and gave some excellent tips on how to "get through" this event. Thank you # 5890!

With that many people in a "holding corral" for an hour, there will indefinitely be a need for people to relieve themselves. So, men where whipping out there "bits" and doing their business into the river. At this point in time I "REALLY" had to go...but there was no shelter; so what does a woman do in this situation?? well you squat by a tree, say "pardon" and let it go!...c'mon, finding a woman in the crowd was like finding a needle in a haystack, I am sure they were either astounded by the bravery or lack of elegance!

Then at 7:50 am, right on cue, there was this wave of "clicking sounds"..everyone was clipping into their pedals. My stomach started to flutter and all I could think was "here we go...it's going to be a long day" So we edged forward to the timing mat (I was about 1 km back from the start) with the village of Bourg D'Oisans out in full force cheering. It was like Le Tour for the start. When I finally saw the big air inflated arc that would mark my departure I had a huge sense of the "unknown"..what was the day going to bring? how would I handle the rough parts? would I be ok on the descents? But before I could think too much about that we were off and I was sucking some wheels!!

I have never drafted in a big cycling event like this let alone many training rides. Let's just say I had a BLAST. I might have gotten a little carried away in the first 10 km...it was just so fun for me!

But...that didn't last for long because at 15 km, you start climbing.....

Gregory waited for me around 1 km into the climb. I blew him kisses and wished him happy anniversary. A few riders who spoke English and understood what I was saying/doing told me that I have a very "patient" husband to put up with a wife who would do something this crazy on their anniversary! I agreed! To give you even more evidence that my husband is the best; he then proceeded to drive up to Alpe D'Huez and wait for me for the REST of the day because the road were closed. I am one lucky Chewy!

After the first 6 km of the ride which are some of the worst (9-11%) we had a brief descent and then the most brutal part of the climb at +12%. Lots of huffing, puffing, cursing and many people reconsidering what they got themselves into. Since I had done this climb many times before, I knew how to pace and kept it steady. Many of the people who started out like bats out of hell were fading...and little did they know what was yet to come...

Every 5 minutes a support vehicle/motorcycle would pass with their sirens trying to keep everyone to one side of the road, which was almost impossible...with the amount of people we were riding 8-10 abreast. It was a zoo!

I was trying to keep on top of my nutrition, but having a few "GI issues" so I did the best I could. With about 15 km left to go on the climb the sun was out in full force and the wind was VERY mild in this valley so we were all roasting like hamburgers on a barbeque. I was paying close attention to my salt and water intake as any sort of deficit will put you out of the game before you know it.

Looking at my watch, I knew I was making good time. With the draft, lack of wind and initial excitement I reached the point where you can see the Glandon peak 15 minutes ahead of what I thought I would be at. Then I relaxed and told myself to "slow-down" it is a long day! On the final stretch to the summit I took out my disposable camera that I purchased for this event and as I was balancing my bike and trying to take a picture, two nice German men made gestures for me to give them the camera so they could take a picture of me. So we got a few good shots, and it was all smiles and fun...hmm...for now..the camera was not so fun after a few more hours....

I reached the top, well, almost the top of Glandon in great shape. Because there were so many riders the security crew was bottlenecking them so that only a handful of riders could descend the "death-trap" at a time, which lead to a back-up a few hundred meters from the summit of Glandon. That was fine with me! I pulled over, layed my bike down, drank and ate, asked a few nice Belgium men to cover for me as I "relieved myself" in the midst of thousands of cyclists, refilled my bottles and absorbed all the organized chaos going on around me. There were sooo MANY cylclists, volunteers and supporters! It blows my mind! to think that you are part of this event and one of many just trying to cross the finish gives me undescribeable feelings...it is something you need to experience to understand. And just as I was flying high in my emotions, waiting my turn to funnel into the descent and cross the timing matt I was brought back to reality by the screaming sirens of an ambulance.

At that time, i could not tell if the ambulance was coming from ahead or behind, but a volunteer police man hearded us to the side of the road and bumped me a little "too hard" when I was half clipped-in...so I did one of the "tip the cow" falls. I was fine and didn't know what was more funny, all of the males watching and looking at the cop like "you just pushed a woman over!!" or the horror in the police mans face when he realized he had pushed a "woman" (in Europe it is unacceptable...plus seeing a woman in this event is like finding a needle in a haystack; of the 7000 participants only a couple hundred were women). I assured him I was fine, which I was...but, I could not get over the ambulance (and there were many more to come); the reality of the risks and dangers of such an event flooded my mind and grounded me for what was to be one of the most nerve racking and emotionally draining descents I have ever experienced.....

Chapter 1: What exactly is La Marmotte??

I’m sore, really, really sore. I’m tired, really, really tired. I’m happy, really, really happy!

This is going to be an “epic report” that will have a number of “Chapters”. Today, before getting into the nitty gritty, I am going to give an overview of the La Marmotte race after experiencing it firsthand. Every cyclist in Europe will know what you are talking about when you say La Marmotte, but only a handful or so do in America. This is very unfortunate because there is such a vast opportunity for American cyclists in Europe. If you don’t mind camping, it can be very affordable as well.

Brief recap for those of you just joining in on the blog or are not aware of the bike race La Marmotte (it is HUGE in Europe). La Marmotte has been labeled the hardest one day cycling event in the world; as to whether or not that is true, I don’t know, but it sure as heck was the hardest bike ride I have ever done with physical and mental feelings of torture and pain that can only be compared to Ironman. La Marmotte is a 174 km bike ride that takes you over 3 mountains and 5 Col’s: Col du Glandon, Col du Telegraphe, Col du Galibier, Col du Lautaret, and Alpe D’Huez.

The reason I know about La Marmotte is because last year at this time I had just finished Ironman Nice and was in Allemont recovering with Gregory. There were a bunch of signs between Allemont and Bourg d’Oisans displaying the “roads were closed” on Saturday for a cycling event. Of course Gregory, Joelle and Claude and everyone else in Allemont knew what was going on. In my head I was thinking “why would they close the roads for cyclists? In America they only have cops at intersections”. Gregory asked me if I wanted to go watch some of the race Saturday morning. So we walked to the bakery and had breakfast by the damn as the cyclists started arriving. I thought it might go on for 10 minutes or so….then it was 20 minutes, 30 minutes, 1 hr…you get the idea. NEVER had I ever seen so many cyclists at once. I then thought that this ride has something special about it.

A few weeks later after I had recovered from Ironman Nice, I decided to tackle Col du Glandon/de la Croix Fer for the first time. Let’s just say that this climb is really, really cruel! You go up for 45 minutes at avg. 9% then down for 5 minutes that puts you back near where you started, then up again for an hour, then down..then up to the summit. A disclaimer; when you look at the gains in altitude for a climb (where you started vs. where you end up), you get the number referring from the bottom to the top, but that does not include all the ups and downs that occur during the climb. So where some people think that you only have to climb 1300 meters it is actually more due to these descents during the climbs that take you back down and you have to re-climb.

Back to the subject matter at hand; I had done Alpe d’Huez before Ironman Nice and the climb at that time rendered me “out of order,” I was toast afterwards. So, when I put two and two together, Col du Glandon + Alpe D’Huez…+ TELEGRAPHE AND GALIBIER!! (which, I had never done) I realized this ride was EPIC, like INSANE! And yes, only then did I tell myself I wanted to someday do it.

Fast-forward to this year. After such a disappointment at Oceanside, I realized I needed to get back to the “roots” of why I enjoy sports and needed a goal that was not triathlon related and something that could help me dial in my nutrition. There was a little devil tugging on my ear whispering “you know what you could do, don’t you?” Then I took the plunge and registered online. Heck, it was only 40 Euros, so if I don’t do it, at least I am not losing my life savings! (like Ironman, LOL!) Then tickets were booked to France; we decided 3 weeks would be enough time in the mountains to determine if I could “finish it” and learn some French! Which I have! (those experiences in another blog entry). So in June I crossed the pond to start a new adventure…

Back to the ride...

The interesting thing about this “ride” is that it gets more and more popular every year. Last year there were 6000 participants, this year there was just over 7000; and the real kicker is that they turned down over 1500 late registrants! The magnitude of this event takes my breath away and the amount of time and effort to organize it, I cannot fathom! All of this for 40 Euro’s…yes that is around 60 American dollars. Why the heck we pay $275 and >$500 for ½ Ironman and Ironman I cannot answer. All I can confirm is that the support, resources and encouragement matched and even surpassed that of any Ironman event I have done.

There were numerous stops along the course and they had spread them so precisely! There were water stops with bathrooms which were most frequent. There were hoses flowing with filtered water for bottle refills (such a great idea! With >7000 riders it is impossible to do individual bottle refills). At Col du Glandon (which was insanely busy! More on that in Chapter 2) because there was no place for the “hose” system, volunteers had gigantic tubs of water and used pitchers of water to refill your bottles. There were 3 major food stops along the course that served exactly what you wanted! The first one had bananas, fruits and gels; the second stop brought out the salty food, soup and sandwiches, and the last one had everything imaginable; my favorite was the Pepsi! Along the way I recall 4 Mavic stops for bike repairs and an endless amount of security and support passing us (every few minutes a motor bike or support crew would pass and help anyone in trouble). And last, but definitely not least was the medical support. I will not go into detail now, but the number of lives these people saved because they were prepared and got to them instantly (mostly on the descents due to crashes) blows my mind. I saw 5, yes 5!! Accidents and many people being loaded into ambulances during the first descent….not pretty, and not the reason I signed up for this event, but the fact that there were police and ambulances pretty much lining the descent every 5 km is very reassuring.

Next up…the beginning; my Journey to the starting line and what it is like to be in a tiny village with over 7000 cyclists!

Holy Crap!

That was hard!! Just as hard if not harder than Ironman in my opinion!!

Full report to come soon, but in the meantime:

9 hrs 30 min 38 seconds....that earned me a gold-standard finish by over 30 minutes! I am pleased! but really don't know how to take it as I have never, ever hurt so bad on the bike as I did today!

Amazing experience! great organization and something I will NEVER forget!

On her way

I've taken over Erin's omputer while she is riding her bike. Just saw her pass the 15k mark and she was doing well; which is good considering that she still has 165 to go!
Weather is good so far, lots of sun and not too hot yet to climb croix de fer. More updates from Alpe d'Huez!

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!!

Happy Anniversary love of my life!! 2 years already!! LOVE YOU!

It's Show Time!!

Well, it has been quite a busy, busy, busy week! Sunday I traveled to Paris to pick up the "package" Special delivery via United Airlines! My hubby finally arrived in France. Wow, 3 weeks is a long time to be away from your spouse. Lets just say I am happy to have him back!

After a few more doctor check-ups (health care is absolutely astonishing quality-wise and super cheap even without insurance so Gregory and I get our yearly maintenance done in France) and visits with friends we drove back to the Alpes.

We picked up my bike that had been dropped off for a tune-up/check-up before the race....


hmmm, this bike is RED, not black like the old one. What is going on?? Well, I just got this bike today, one day before La Marmotte!! I know everyone has bike problems and little tid-bits to fix before an event, but I thought my bad luck with this was OVER! I was wrong. Long story short, my previous frame had some length discrepencies, which were supposed to be fine for the La Marmotte, but an new frame was ordered and it would be replaced (we found this out on Wednesday). When I rode my bike, the spokes in the wheel creaked (not a good sign!) due to truing the wheel to accomodate the length discrepency (Thursday). To be on the safe side, the bike shop gave me a rental bike to ride. My auntie Cocole (and me too) was not happy on switching bikes 2 days before the race...it is hard to switch geometries and shifting (this was a triple). But I rode it and although it was not like my original bike, I was happy to have a bike to ride; things could be worse (oh yeah, I have been there before too!)

But, Auntie Cocole was determined and called the shop early this morning and what transpired between her and the bike shop I do not know, but Gregory and I ended recieving a call early this morning telling us to drop off the bike at the shop ASAP!! We dropped the bike off and at noon it had my compac crankset on, my proper stem length and wheels that cost more than the bike...lets say that the bike had a huge MAKE OVER! I think I ended up with a better bike than I started with!! It rides like a charm!

I am very fortunate to have an Auntie Cocole who looks out for me! If you are reading this Cocole, Merci Beaucoup et Gros bisous!

Now on to the La Marmotte details. This year there are a record number of riders! Over 7000 people are signed up! My number is 6306 and I start at 7:50 am. I am the third and final wave to start...although I won't be alone, I start with 3000 people!

There is a nifty athlete tracker where you can see where I am on the course. Here is the link:

http://www.la-marmotte.org/cartemarmotte.php

Just plug in # 6306 and you are set!

I am pretty much set for the day...it is supposed to be warm...But, you need your gloves and jacket because there are still snowpiles at the top of Galibier.

I am also going to be lugging around 10 hrs worth of nutrition (I am HOPING I am done around 10 hrs...if not, I resort to "real people" food) These are the times that having food allergies can be a little tricky. How do you carry that much?? Well, lots of plastic baggies and an extra large "bento box"! The basic plan involves Carbo-Pro, hammer Gels and Pamela's cookies.

Pamela's cookies are also pretty compact and easy to transport, especially their miniature cookies, YUM!


I told Gregory that I have "butterflies" in my stomach. This is like doing your first Ironman! I don't think that a lot of people who have not ridden over here grasp the concept of how difficult this is and how "just finishing" is an accomplishment! It is 174 km; however, the 22000 ft of climbing occurs over 73 km; do the math, it's a monster! but I am loving it, I am loving the idea of the challenge, the unknown, the amount I will learn about myself and the courage that I will have to find within myself.

This is what it is about...this is what I have missed. There are so many "if's" "but's" and "what's" but all I know is that I am going to start and try to get as far as my body and mind will allow me...

Hopefully that will be to the finish line at the top of Alpe D'Huez. Then, and only then, will I raid the the La Marmotte promotional store and purchase everything in site with a furry Marmotte (groundhog for the Americans) plastered over it.

Cheers!