Off Season!

By mid-September, I was ready to wrap up my road racing season.  After the Folsom Omnium, I decided to take a little break. What do cyclists do during off-season?  For a couple of weeks, I forgot about my bike and did that thing that cyclists DON’T do.  Yep, I went running.  Slowly.  It was really fun to spend time running with the husband and the dog until both got in running shape and decided I was to slow to join them. I was relegated to full-moon and night hikes with the family.

Found the Turkeys!

And a Christmas Tree on the side of the road

I cleaned out my car.  Cars can get kind of gross when you spend most weekends living out of them.  I did a lot of laundry and cleaning–also a function of the traveling every weekend.  I cooked labor intensive meals which took 2 to 3 hours to prepare but were really yummy.  I fasted for three days.  I ate “gluten free” for two weeks.  I ate too many pumpkin flavored things. I meditated.  I found a new yoga studio and started going to classes.  I did work outs that took less than 2 hours and sometimes less than 1 hour. It was awesome.

One of my favorite off-season/winter training activities is lifting weights.  I jumped back into lifting weights–big thighs and all– with enthusiasm and zeal.  At some point, I jumped back on the bike. This year, we actually had a (dry) fall season with amazing leaf colors and very little snow.  I rode outside as much as possible.

 

 

Rainbows

I’ve wanted to update my blog for a couple of months now.  It seems that every time I think I have something intriguing to write about, someone else had already written about it.  The obvious themes include cold weather, off-season, winter training, and making fun of cyclists.

One of my favorite things about living in the mountains is watching the weather roll in and roll out.  While I continue to reflect and muster up more creativity, here are some recent weather photos:

 

Mixing it Up

Friday’s ride was an easy day consisting of a bike ride to the pool, a short swim, and a bike ride home.  At my husband’s urging, I left home around dinnertime just after putting our dinner- kale lasagna- in the oven despite my worries about leaving the oven unattended.  I  think this blog post is really an excuse to talk about the kale lasagna.  The one thing I have managed to successfully grow this summer is kale.  Nutritionally, it’s a superfood and after consuming almost 4 lbs this week, I expect to feel like superwoman at my next race.

Since I was carrying a backpack and going to swim anyway, I decided not to even wear a jersey.  None of my jerseys make me look like a real cyclist, so the only benefit is the pockets. But, with a pack, I didn’t need the pockets.  I spent 20 minutes of the 25 minute commute worrying that the husband would not make it home in time to grab the lasagna out of the oven and that a fire would ensue.  I had left a door open as an escape route for the dog and so  I could only hope for the best.

I felt like a triathlete changing over into my swimsuit.  I haven’t done a triathlon since 2008 and I’ve only been swimming a handful of times over the past couple of years.  What I lack in technique, ability, and general swimming skill, I try to make up for by looking fit and looking like I know what I’m doing.   The facade comes tumbling down as soon as I take off on my first lap.  Since it’s Friday evening, there isn’t anyone else swimming laps and I don’t feel too self-conscious.  The legs enjoy the rest from cycling as they kick through the water.  My lungs are confused as I’m left panting after my first set of 100 meters.  Only once during my 1000 meter swim do I think about the potential of burnt lasagna and burnt kitchen.

It turns out that I forgot to bring a towel.  I can now confidently say that putting on bike clothes while wet is not fun, but easier than getting into a wet wetsuit.  I spin back home, slightly chilled and wet, and am delighted to see my dog coming down the driveway to greet me. If nothing else, the escape route was a success.  The husband greets me from the front porch.  As he remarks about how funny I look with my wet hair in pigtails smashed down from my helmet, I roll my eyes and head inside to sample my (perfectly cooked) delicious kale lasagna.