Serena Rides

Cascade Chainbreaker - Two years is enough time to forget.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Fri, 17 May 2013 15:29:00 +0000

Photo: lasala images

Two years is enough time to forget.

To forget the dust, and the heat, and the fact that the course has no place to rest.

The downhills aren't steep enough to stop pedaling, the uphills aren't long enough to get into a rhythm.
Full gas, all the time.

I had not done Cascade Chainbreaker, aka Cascade Soul Crusher, in two years.
Two years is also long enough to forget how much fun it is.

Photo: lasala images

Held on Saturday, in the Skyline Forest just west of town, the course is on private land, so I never ride there, except for this race. The course is dry and dusty, and not super interesting, but is a lot of fun because it is different, and because there is a little in-field play area where hecklers heckle and if you are lucky, spray water on you as you ride by. And because it is at home and because there is Coke and salty snacks awaiting you at the finish.

I knew this was going to be a tough race, and I wanted to take the win. I raced hard, battled for the lead for the first quarter of the race, and then, just couldn't hang with Evelyn any longer. She made a couple of really good passes, around the Cat 1 Men we were catching, and I got stuck. I couldn't regain the ground. Over the rest of the race, Evelyn put in some good time in on me and I crossed the line in second, a couple minutes back.

Racing a home is the best. Cheers came from so many friends, there were hugs and smiles and high-fives at the finish line. I went to my favorite swimming hole, with Piper Pup in tow, and jumped in, before hitting the showers.

I wanted to take the win, but I also wanted to test myself and race as a hard as I could. Big thanks to Evelyn to kicking my butt and pushing my limits.

Next up: Sunday May 19th, Sagebrush Safari in Lake Morena, California.

The Whiskey 50: A small town race, with a world class field.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Fri, 03 May 2013 04:53:00 +0000

Photo: Cycling Dirt

Whiskey 50 talked a big game, and did not disappoint. Held in Prescott, Arizona, the Whiskey 50 is one tough race. Starting on Friday evening with the fat tire crit and concluding on Sunday with the 50 mile cross country race; 50 miles and 7,000 ft of climbing. Ouch.

I had high expectations for this race. I wanted to place in the top ten. Looking at the results from last year, I knew this was possible. Then the start list was released for the 2013 edition. The field was stacked. I would be racing against the best in the world. This race would include the deepest women’s field of any race in the US this year. What an awesome opportunity to test myself against the best. This was a challenge I was thrilled to take on and my goal remained the same, top 10.

Photo: Cycling Dirt

On Friday night, I lined up for the crit, not knowing what to expect, but having more fun in a criterium than ever before. The course went like this: up, up, down, repeat. Close to 2,000 ft of climbing in 28 minutes. Each time I started up the hill, I dug deep, the pain face came out, and I gasped for air. I held it together and finished 9th. I was pleased with the effort, released some of the nervous energy that I had been storing up, and was excited for the rest of the weekend.

Sunday morning came quickly. After a quick breakfast, coffee, and last minute race-prep, Brennan and I headed into Prescott to meet up with Papa and Connie. Having familiar faces in an unfamiliar town is amazing and to have my family there to support me on race day was very special.

After a quick warm-up pedal on the Anthem, we lined up and were off. I started toward the very back of the group and worked my way up toward the front as we rolled out of town and up the hill towards the forest. The pace was much slower than I expected and I was able to easily sit in without working too hard. As the road grade ramped up, so did the speed and I was in just the right place when we hit the dirt road. I stayed toward the front and was well inside the top 10 when we hit the single track. I probably burned a few too many matches on the first real climb, wanting to stay in sight of the leaders. My heart-rate was sky-high, but I didn't care. I was riding hard and excited that I had made the right moves to put myself into a good position.

Unfortunately, I wasn't quite quick enough on the descent to keep up with the leaders and gap opened; I was passed by a few girls. The second climb really hurt and I was digging pretty deep at this point – still very early in the race. From this point on, I was in the pain cave. I was working hard to catch Teal and Amanda on the climbs and trying not to lose too much time on the descents. At the Skull Valley turn around, I saw Papa and Connie (who dumped a whole bottle of ice water on my back, thank you very much) and Michael Carroll, who rides for Stan’s No Tubes and with whom I have the privilege of working in the capacity of my day-job. Michael had offered to be in the feed zone for me, and what an offer. Knowing he would be there with my bottles of Clif Shot was a huge comfort.

The turnaround at Skull Valley marked the start of an epic climb. Very long, very exposed, and in places, pretty steep. This climb tests the mind as much as the body. At one point, I started going backwards. I was hot and tired, and hurting. I stuck to my plan, eat, drink, dig. I felt better. I started pedaling faster, standing up, catching girls. I bridged up to Amanda, with Teal not far behind, and we crested the hill and were back on single track in that order. Teal then unleashed her super power: Going downhill really really fast. Amanda kept up for a bit and before I knew it, they were both out of sight. I could only ride as fast as I could ride; I stayed loose and focused, and smooth.

And then I came to, what I later learned to be, Cramp Hill. And I cramped. For the first time in my life, I cramped. Now I know what it feels like: completely debilitating. What could I do, I had 9 more miles left to race? Positive self-talk was my only weapon.

Keep spinning, keep spinning. Drink. Your whole bottle. This is not happening. No. This will not happen.

For a minute or two, I just kept talking to myself, out loud. And the cramp subsided. I was a bit nervous to push to hard on my left leg, but I had to. I was in the middle of a race. A few more miles of single track and I was on the road. I was alone, so I just drilled it, the best I could. A few turns, an uphill block or two, and onto Whiskey Row.

Papa was there at the finish. My legs didn't want to work any longer. He took my bike and I leaned on it for support. A volunteer gave me some water. I looked around. I was surrounded by strong, tough, glowing women. We had all just raced our hearts out. I was proud to be a part of this group.

I finished 16th. I wasn't in the top 10, but I raced well and learned a number of lessons. I am looking forward to putting these lessons to work in my next 50 miler, in California in a few weeks and next year when I return to Prescott for my second Whiskey 50.

Click here to read Brennan's race report and learn more about All Access Racing.

Be home before dark.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 22:24:00 +0000

“Be home before dark”, my mother would say before Kacy and I scurried out the gate, past the garden and the barn, into the field and under the back fence that led to the Skunk Tree.

The sun would be high in the sky, the temperatures in the nineties, the warm breeze doing nothing but blowing around the dust and dry grasses that had been recently mowed. We weren't really supposed to go to the Skunk Tree, but we did so anyway. No one would know about it - there were forts to be built and branches to be climbed and rotten-trunk caves to be explored.

Once our chores were complete, we were free. Free to run and explore and scramble and fall and scrape our knees. The only protection my mother required was sunscreen. The only prerequisite to this unparalleled freedom; taking care of one another.

Kacy is two years younger than I – and anything I did, she had to do better. Climb higher, jump further, be braver. She was my fiercest competitor and bestest friend. As we got older, the competitor portion of our relationship took hold and we were forced to navigate some rough waters. Together we made it thought and as adults, Kacy is my best friend.

As we age, relationships change; not only with siblings, but with time, and freedom, and fun. We don’t scamper into the woods for hours, and play nonsense games, and forget what time it is – or do we?

On Friday night, after work – I did. I jumped on my bike and pedaled into the woods. I had no agenda, no workout or route in mind. I rode alone, listening to the sounds of the trees, the needles beneath my tyres, the wind as it rushed by my ears. I just pedaled.

The sun cast long shadows and I knew I would be racing the rising moon; but I climbed higher anyway. My legs turned over easily, fueled by the fresh air of the spring evening. I felt like a kid; filled with the anticipation of exploring the Skunk Tree.

At the high point, I quit pedaling. I stood there, looking out over the trees, at the mountains east of town, at the clouds that drifted slowly across the sky, at the sun, just setting behind the ridge.

I heard a whisper on the wind, “Be home before dark.”

And I pedaled as a fast as my legs would allow. My vest open, flapping in the wind, I caught a glimpse of my shadow – I was wearing a cape. I could fly.

Just as twilight settled in, I turned down the alley way. This kid made it home before dark.

Because it is so true.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 00:13:00 +0000

When Cassondra sent me the link to this film, I had to watch it. Cassondra is meaningful in everything she does.

She strives to inform, to inspire, to educate, to love. If this film was worthy of Cassondra's attention, I knew it would be meaningful.

Knowing absolutely nothing about the film, I clicked the play button.

I was brought to tears. I was moved. I was empowered and motivated and humbled.

Because it is so true.

Feels like Spring: Quinoa Salad with Apricots & Pistachios

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 04:13:00 +0000

Photo: Cooking Light

Growing up, my mom would make me this salad - when everyone else was out of the house and it was just the two of us around the dinner table. We would eat the whole thing; completely devouring each and every delicious cornel of goodness.

As an adult nothing has really changed. I still love this salad.

The other night, Mom asked me for the recipe. I normally just make this salad from memory, but thought I would see if I could find the original recipe card Mom had given me, for my very own cookbook, when I was about 12 years old. I found it!

From cooking light magazine, June 1999, page 130. First made 7/99 by Mom

Salad:
3 cups water
1 cup uncooked quinoa
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 cups thinly sliced romaine lettuce
1/3 cup dried apricots (about 10), quartered
1/3 cup golden raisins
1/4 cup shelled dry-roasted pistachios
1/4 cup thinly sliced green onions
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh mint
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Vinaigrette:
1/2 teaspoon grated lime rind
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons mirin (sweet rice wine) or slightly sweet white wine (such as Riesling)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon paprika

To prepare the salad:

Combine water, quinoa, and salt in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil; reduce heat, and simmer 15 minutes. Drain the quinoa mixture through a sieve over a bowl, reserving 3 tablespoons cooking liquid. Combine quinoa mixture, lettuce, and next 8 ingredients (lettuce through black pepper) in a large bowl; set aside.

To prepare the vinaigrette:

Combine reserved 3 tablespoons cooking liquid, lime rind, and remaining ingredients in a bowl, stirring well with a whisk. Pour vinaigrette over quinoa mixture, and toss well to coat.

Serves 4 - unless it is Seren and Mom - then we'll eat it all.

An Oregon Road Trip and Mudslinger - Living Up To It's Name

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 02:03:00 +0000

Last weekend, Ben, Piper and I embarked on a mini-vacation.

It began on Thursday evening. We loaded up the Element and headed all the way to Sisters, for a night at the Five Pine Lodge (thanks Joel!). We explored the lower Peterson Ridge Trail network on Friday morning, with Piper in tow (she is becoming a pretty good little trail dog) and enjoyed a few sweet treats at Angeline’s.

Next on the agenda, the Oregon Coast at Pacific City. In true spring time fashion, the weather was sporadic, but lovely (in an Oregon Coast sort of way) and both Ben and I were able to get out and enjoy some fresh coastal air; Ben on his surf board and I on my MTB. Piper had a hay-day frolicking in the ocean and I couldn't help but smile to see our little family having so much fun together.

Saturday afternoon, we drove to Corvallis, to visit some dear friends, from our Opal Creek days and enjoyed the splendor of their company and their locally-sourced (from their backyard), out-of-this-world cuisine. Spending time with them was truly relaxing and I am fortunate that we had the time to connect.

Sunday morning was RACE DAY! Ben and I headed to Blodgett, for the 25^th edition of MUDSLINGER! Mike Ripley always puts on a stellar race and this was no exception. The weather was perfect for an event entitled MUDSLINGER – no further explanation necessary.

Photo: Oregon Velo

I came to this race to win. At the start line, I knew this was going to be a tough and challenging day and I was excited to race and see what I could do on my new Giant Anthem. The first long climb felt good and I sat patiently on Alice’s wheel. And then, it was time to go. Taking the lead and getting a gap, I charged up the next climb, knowing I had to put in some meaningful time on Alice if I was going to hold the lead on the next long decent. Two-thirds down the greasy single track, Alice made the pass, and it was back and forth from there on out. I was climbing stronger, but Alice was railing the downhills with incredible speed. In the end, Alice took the win by under 20 seconds. I crossed the line in 2nd.

Photo: Oregon Velo

And even more noteworthy was that Ben also toed the line. Yes, Ben Gordon. Never before had he raced a mountain bike – and he had fun. In fact, he told me the next day that he thinks he will do another race.

There was nothing more awesome than for me see Ben after the race was over, smiling! Two muddy bikes, one exhausted pup and the love of my life, enjoying the sport I am so passionate about. It was an awesome weekend, in so many ways. Thanks to all that helped to make it so.

For more on my team, All Access Racing – check out our team blog at http://allaccessracing.blogspot.com/. HINT: Brennan crushed it!

All Access Racing - It's Official.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Tue, 19 Mar 2013 16:31:00 +0000

Excited to be part of All Access Racing

The Science of Sitting on a Saddle: Rebound Physical Therapy

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Thu, 07 Mar 2013 19:32:00 +0000

Last week, I made an appointment with Jay Dicharry, at Rebound Physical Therapy. I came prepared to have my bike adjusted so I brought a new saddle, new cleats and some very tight quads. While I thought I made an appointment for a bike fit, what I came away with was much more. I left with a complete biomechanical evaluation and the knowledge that my posture on the bike has the potential to generate significant improvement for me as a cyclist.

"A bike fit really isn't about adjusting the bike. It is about adjusting you on the bike." Adjusting the bike would be a whole lot easier.

I met with Jay on a Friday morning, at 8am. I was at Rebound for more than two and a half hours. I did lunges and squats and single leg rotational things. We didn't even talk about my bike. We talked about riding single track and backcountry skiing and compared the social expectations between the East and West Coasts.

Everything was going well, I thought. I was strong and solid and could do all the exercises Jay instructed me to do.

Little did I know, Jay was taking an inventory of all my movement patterns. Not if I could do a squat, but how I did a squat. Not if I was strong enough to an exercise, but what muscles were overcompensating for the weaker ones.

"Now it time for the lie detector test." Jay said.

"What?" I began to get nervous.

"Yes, you heard me correctly, the lie detector test."

This was the test of truth. This was when the pieces of my strong, athletic self started to crumble. With just one seemingly simple exercise, so many weaknesses were exposed. Weaknesses I was not even aware of.

I didn't know how to engage my core.!

"You are strong," Jay said. "But a six-pack is only good for one thing. The beach."

We worked on exercises that would help me overcome these weaknesses and teach me how to engage my core. This was the start of a lot of concentration and hard work, but the results would make me a better cyclist, my ultimate goal.

I could become a stronger cyclist by just learning how to engage my core while on the bike?

Brilliant. Really Brilliant. How could I have been blind to this knowledge for so long?

Finally, it was time to get on the bike. As expected, it was not the bike that needed to be adjusted, but my position on the bike. We put on the new saddle and new cleats and made a few minor adjustments - and that was the easy part.

Now it was my turn to adjust how I held my body on the bike. This, on the other hand, was not easy. It was not easy, and that was to be expected. I have been sitting on a bicycle in exactly the same position for years. I have logged hundreds of hours hunched over, over utilizing my quadriceps, underutilizing my core and glutes, and putting unnecessary stress on my neck, shoulders, and lower back. In a nutshell, I have been doing it all wrong.

Jay was patient with me as we worked together to make small adjustments. He gave me queues to remind me of the correct position. A lot of mental concentration is required to overcome years of muscle memory.

I left Rebound with some black and white copies of my prescribed exercises and a green sticky with some friendly reminders of what to work on. I walked out the door overwhelmed with the changes I had just committed to making.

Overwhelmed and excited. All the training in the world can make you fast, but to be the best, it is the little things that make the difference. I was going to work on the little things.

That afternoon, I went for a ride. I road with a renewed sense of purpose . I wanted to make all the corrections Jay and I had discussed earlier in the day.

"Was I doing it correctly?" I second guessed myself and corrected the corrections. I shifted back and forth on the saddle, trying to be acutely aware of my body position; which muscles in my back and legs were engaged, how I was holding my head and shoulders, and tailbone. Was I slouching over or engaging my core?

And then, something clicked. I found the right position. When I engaged my core, my back straightened, I felt my glutes engage, I had no pressure in my neck or shoulders, and I wasn't utilizing my quads nearly as much.

"So this is what it feels like."

Five minutes later, I was exhausted. Holding a new position and teaching muscles to behave in a way they have never behaved before is difficult. I started to regress to my old, hunched-over self, but I fought back. I kept my core engaged, hinging at the hips with my shoulders loose.

This is going to take some work", I whispered under my breath as I climbed out of Tumalo, "but I am up for the challenge."

I am excited to improve my position on the bike, and to utilize some strength that I have been overlooking.

It is scary to hear about all the things that you aren't "doing right", but this can also be motivating; creating a focus to make improvements - I'm in the motivated camp! If any of this is of interest to you, I suggest seeking out your nearest bike/biomechanics fitter and cashing in on some underutilized potential.

Who Knew Pork Was So Delicious?

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 22:33:00 +0000

Last night, I experimented in the kitchen. I have been doing a bit of this of late, and really having fun. Ben has been enjoying the results.

Last night, armed with two pounds of pork roast, I tried something new, Pork Carnitas.

As Ben will attest, the results were delicious.

What you need...

For the Carnitas:
2 pounds pork roast, shoulder or butt, deboned, trimmed and cut into 1-2 inch pieces
1/2 cup fresh squeezed blood orange juice
Juice from 1 lemon and 1 lime
4 cloves garlic, peeled, but whole
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon sea salt

For the fixings:
Small corn tortillas
Avocado
Cilantro
Red Cabbage
Grated sharp cheddar cheese
Sour cream, black beans, tomatoes, limes, anything else that will make you smile.

To make the magic:
In a large dutch oven, place the pork, juices, garlic, spices and enough water to just cover the meat. Bring to a boil and then simmer uncovered for two hours - don't stir.

Next, ramp up the heat to med-high and cook for 45 minutes, turning pork until all the liquid has boiled off. Cook long enough to brown the edges of the pork.

Now, you are ready for a taste-bud extravaganza. Serve the pork warm, along with all the fixings.
You will never look at pork the same again.

USGP Weekend in Bend

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 04:55:00 +0000

The USGP in Bend, the second weekend of December, marked my last weekend of racing for the season. 2012 was a great year, I learned a lot, developed as a rider and achieved many of the goals I had set for myself.

My last race was a great one. Everything fell into place and I felt like I was racing "like I knew I could". It was a bitter sweet end to a brilliant year.

The emotions I felt after crossing the line were overwhelming and instead of trying to articulate them a month removed, I'll let a few images do the talking.

A bear hug from a good friend. Thanks Amanda for making my weekend even sweeter.

Great people, big smiles.

Post race with Gary B.

Jade, Evelyn and myself, all smiles

Matt put this awesome video together after a most excellent weekend.

And of course, some coverage from Cyclingdirt.com.

Watch more video of USGP - Deschutes Brewery Cup - Bend, OR on cyclingdirt.org

Wheat Berry Salad - A new favorite

noreply@blogger.com (Serena Gordon) — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 04:04:00 +0000

Serves 4 to 6

Salad

2 cups wheat berries, soaked overnight and cooked stove top (boil in lightly salted water for approx 50 min)
2 medium sweet potatoes or yams – cubed and roasted with salt & olive oil @ 375 for 45 minutes
¼ cup roasted sunflower seeds
¼ feta cheese
½ cup basil, finely chopped
1 cup red cabbage, chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste

Dressing

Mix ingredients below in a ball jar and let sit in refrigerator for 30 minutes, mix with salad ingredients prior to serving.

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon water
1/2 teaspoon table salt
1/2 teaspoon granulated sugar
¼ cup shallots, finely chopped

Mix all salad ingredients in a large bowl. If wheat berries and sweet potatoes are still warm, all the better. Top with dressing and toss well. This is so delicious that you might not have any leftovers, but if you do, it tastes even better the next day.

Here's to Greatness

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Thu, 06 Dec 2012 18:01:00 +0000

The desire to improve is one deeply rooted in my being.

It will not be smothered, deterred, or turned away from. It is a part of me.

Incremental improvement is often hard to measure. By definition, it doesn't happen all at once; but slowly, over time. Undetected, under recognized, and not celebrated.

These incremental steps are the building blocks to greatness; to attaining goals and reaching for dreams.

The end of my 2012 racing season will come at 3pm on Sunday – after the USGP in Bend. I have 80 minutes of racing left in these legs – I am planning to have good legs, a clear mind, and a strong heart.

I will race this weekend like it is my championship race, the climax of a long season. A season of incremental improvements, of slow and steady progress.

I will race with all the speed and strength and skill I have. I will hear the voices of my dearest friends, and of Ben. I will race my best, and no matter the result, when I cross the finish line on Sunday, I will be drawing a close to a great season.

It is important to remember the goals I set for myself last spring. To celebrate the accomplishments I have had and to be thankful to all those amazing people that make my life rich and full and wonderful.

I am not a professional bike racer, although I dream to be. I am a regular girl that loves to ride her bike, who gets on her bike everyday with the desire to improve, who sets high expectations for herself and is always striving for greatness.

So, here’s to greatness. And breakout races. And smiles, hugs, and whiskey at the finish line.

PIR - Enough Said.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Wed, 05 Dec 2012 18:34:00 +0000

Photo: Matthew Lasala

Photo: Jason Perry

A Halloween Fat Lip and Barton Park; a Cross Crusade Win.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Thu, 08 Nov 2012 22:25:00 +0000

The Halloween Cross Crusade weekend in Bend was brilliant, an excellent display of the Bend community, putting on a fabulous race and memory-making party.

I, unfortunately, didn't have such a brilliant weekend; smashing my face on the asphalt on my way to work on Friday (stupid-silly a$$-over-tea-kettle, complete user error), and racing both Saturday and Sunday with my face so swollen that I had trouble breathing out of my nose and my fat lip getting in the way of mouth breathing.

The redeeming factor of the weekend was my Halloween costume. A dragon; made with lovely care by my Mom; who made the over the mountains to see the costumer race live and in person. Having her here was wonderful and gave me more reason to push myself when I felt like staying the bed. After the race on Sunday, I was forced to admit how exhausted I was. I almost felt over as I tried to get on my bike to get in a cool-down.

Barton Park was a different story. After a week of rest and recovery, spiced up with a couple solid workouts, I was ready to race.

The course was a combination of fast dirt and gravel with a few mud puddles and peanut-butter corners thrown in for good measure. Oh, and of course, the Barton Park run-ups. Two per lap. This was going to be good.

I had a slow start, but quickly moved my way through a strong field of women and by the end of the first lap was in the lead. Head down, hammering, I looked back only enough to see that Alice wasn't on my wheel. After I confirmed I was alone, I focused my attention forward.

I was riding well and having fun. Legs burning, heart on fire.

Barton was a the reasons I love to race cross.

Dirt, mud, friends, cow-bells, donuts, and suffering shared by each person who toed the line.

I have traveled a bit more this season, going to out-of-state races, racing against super-fast women. These races are fun, but racing at home, in Oregon, surrounded by my community - that is the best. I am continually thankful for our community. One of strong spirits, brilliant smiles and flannel. Yes, lots of flannel.

And Don, we certainly miss you.

Photo: Nick Fochtman

Photo: Matthew Lasala

I really like this image.... exhausted, elated, smiling. Yes, Oregon, I really do love you!

Community Exemplified - USGP Fort Collins, LA, Bend.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 04:36:00 +0000

Fort Collins, Los Angeles, Bend.

Three weekends, six races, one family.

We train, we travel, we race, we want to do well and place high and be proud of ourselves. But really, cycling is about the community, our community. A group of people; racers, competitors, friends, family, strangers. Coming together around a common love. Bicycles.

In Fort Collins, I was welcomed into the family home of a friend I made during Marathon Nationals in Bend. I stood in the kitchen on Sunday morning, with Karin's Mom, drinking coffee and my eyes filled with tears, I could not believe the generosity that poured forth around me. Adam kept me laughing the entire weekend, especially when discussing super-powers and riding cross bikes down rocky single track. Karin shared her bright spirit with me, a smile that can only bring joy. And big thanks to Jade, Alice, Beth Ann, Sue, Lea and Andy - for showing me the ropes, holding my hand, being my friends.

In Los Angeles, Brennan and I stayed with his Mom and Grandma. I was overwhelmed with hospitality (and good food). LA is a big place for this country mouse, but somehow, it become a lot smaller when I recognized a few friendly faces. Thanks Billie and Felice.

And this last weekend, in Bend, I raced at home. I had smashed my face on to the asphalt on Friday morning, on my way to work (obviously not my smartest move) and my face looked like Angelina-Jolie-gone-wildly-wrong. I woke up on Saturday morning feeling like I had been hit by a truck. Ben took one look at me and asked "Do you really want to race?"

"Yes" I said without hesitation. I was at home, of course I was going to race.

I had teammates, and friends, and a team tent. Ben and I shared coffee and talked strategy and game-plans. Don, Gary, Susan, Mike, and Cassondra were all there. My Mom came over on Saturday afternoon to be onsite for Halloween Costume oversight. On Sunday, all of Bend was out in force for the annual costume race. There was a ferris wheel and kiddie cross and so much joyousness that I couldn't help but remind myself that I live in the very best place in the world. Even if I did look a bit like frankengirl.

This is what you get when you follow Adam around on a CX bike

Suffering in Fort Collins

Loving the Flyover

Impressive as always.

Cyclcross Season, Well Underway

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 17:35:00 +0000

It is hard to believe that cyclocross season is already well underway. With Marathon Mountain Bike Nationals just a few weeks in the rear view mirror and a couple of local races under my belt, I headed to Portland for a weekend with my family and some great racing at the first Cross Crusade Series Race, Alpenrose.

The Women's field was solid - the strongest I have ever seen at a Crusade race (minus Sue, who is quickly recovering from back surgery and will be back at it no time flat). I had a rotten start, but clawed my way to the front by the second lap. Jade, Alice and Beth Ann were all riding well and I had to dig deep to hold onto my position.

This is what I would consider a pain face.

Photo: Matthew Lasala

To ride or to run? I picked the first option.

Photo: Matthew Lasala

My road tactics weren't strong, but Jade's were. She let me lead until the last lap. I bobbled and she put in an attack I couldn't respond to....

Photo: Matthew Lasala

Last lap, chasing hard.....

Photo: Andrew Keippela

The aftermath.

Photo: Andrew Keippela

USA Cycling Marathon Nationals - That was RAD!

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 13:46:00 +0000

Photo: Matthew Lasala

When I crossed the finish line, I was spent. I had raced my legs off, and when those got tired, I raced with my heart. At the end of the day, I had done what I set out to do. I raced well and crossed the line with nothing left. I had set a goal and achieved it.

At the finish line, as I began to recover, doubled over my handlebars, giving Ben, Amber, and Brig a short race recap, Adam Craig came over asked me how things went.

"Pretty well" I said. Then I stopped, smiled and rethought my answer.

"That was rad!" I yelped as I jumped for glee. (Yes, literally)

I couldn't wipe the cheesy grin from my dirt covered face. But heck, I didn't want to. 4th place, YES!

As I stood on the podium, next to Kelli Emmett, Pua Mata, Kelly Boniface and Sari Anderson, I felt humbled and honored. I had worked hard and earned my spot on the podium. But, I had not done it alone.

Photo: Matthew Lasala

My bike was dialed, my training and nutrition plans executed well, my mind was set on getting the job done. I was pushed and pulled and powered during the entire race by the thoughts and energy coming from the people who care about me and support this crazy hobby called bike racing.

I race because I love it, I train because I want to, and when things come together and all that hard work is rewarded, it is not the individual who can take the credit, it is everyone who has helped along the way.

Photo: Matthew Lasala

Now it is cyclocross season. With the flip of a switch, summer has turned to fall and the little fish is being retired, in favor of the cross bike, as least for a few months.

Channeling Jens Voigt - Marathon Nationals is Saturday.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Thu, 13 Sep 2012 22:55:00 +0000

Marathon Mountain Bike Nationals is on Saturday. Here in Bend, Oregon.

Racing at home is awesome. But also comes with its own challenges.

This morning, as I was doing my stretching, I was thinking about Saturday's Race.

The course is challenging and the competition stiff.
This will be my first race in the USA Cycling Pro Category.
I know the trails.
I have done the work.
This is going to hurt.
How much I can push myself?
How well I can shut off the central governor?
How deep can I dig?

Saturday will be a day that will require mental toughness, positive self-talk, consistent attention to nutrition, solid bike handling skills, little gears, high cadence, pedal mashing, dust surfing, confidence and a little Jens Voigt channeling: "Shut Up Legs".

Bottom line: It really comes down to how much I want it.

Saturday I will race my best. I will cross the finish line with nothing left. And no matter where that puts me in the standings, I will pleased with my performance and my season and myself.

Send strong energy at about 10 o'clock Saturday - I'll be starting the Flagline climb. I am going to need it.

High Cascade 100 - Perpetual Forward Motion.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Fri, 27 Jul 2012 18:52:00 +0000

Photo: Oregon Velo

There is something that happens to your brain when you are in race mode. You lose track of time, and of distance, and the thoughts that would normally be fluttering through your mind.

Focus comes and the miles tick by. The hills are climbed, the descents celebrated and your stash of gels move from right jersey pocket to left jersey pocket as, one by one, they are consumed, not always willingly.

When you race a 100 miles on a mountain bike, the hours disappear. Four 4 hours in, you still have a long way to go – but at the time, you don’t think about that. The only task at hand is to keep riding hard, in order to catch the girl in front of you. You catch her on the climbs, only to see her disappear on the descents. You catch her again, to her surprise, at the top of a small climb – she again takes off. This is at mile 65.

For the next 35 miles, you keep pressing on, charging as hard as your legs will allow, knowing you will be riding your bike for about nine hours.

You keep to your hydration plan and stay focused.

Perpetual forward motion.

You feel like you are slowing down, but you can’t give in to negative thoughts. Anything can happen. Right around the next bend, you might see her.

Photo: Oregon Velo

It is hot and the trail is exposed. The cool morning hours have passed, along with the shadowed covered trail. Now it is hot. Keep drinking, keep eating. Keep moving toward the finish.

With 15 miles to go, you realize that your goal time of 9:45 will be shattered. You are going to break nine hours.

Heading back to town, on the asphalt, toward the finish, you are digging as deep as you can. But after 97 miles, the legs will only turn over so fast.

The last bit of single track, around the corner, the finish line awaits.

You see the girl you were chasing, still bent over her bike. She was right there. You weren’t that far off.

One minute. That was the gap. 60 seconds, over the course of eight hours and 52 minutes. 60 seconds.

Second place, by 60 seconds. Only 60 seconds behind Alice. You wanted to win that race, but you’ll take second – and celebrate. You rode as hard as you could, you challenged when you could and, well, you're getting closer.

Here's CyclingDirts highlight video of the race.

Watch more video of 2012 High Cascades 100 NUE #6 on thom.cyclingdirt.org

Stars and Stripes: Mountain Bike Nationals - Sun Valley, Idaho

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 18:21:00 +0000

XC Mountain Bike Nationals, Cat 1 30-34

As I walked through the crowd, to the top step of the podium, I felt a crazy rush. My eyes were as wide as my smile. I was going to get a new jersey, the one with stars and stripes. I had won a Nationals Championship!

A few weeks ago, a friend shared a quote with me. It went something like this:
~~Good things come to those who wait.~~
Good things come to those who work their asses off and never give up.

I put it up on my refrigerator. I repeated it over and over in my head. I had been working hard, stayed focused, and wasn’t planning on giving up anytime soon.

On race morning, I was ready.

I led from the gun. That wasn’t the plan, but sometimes you have to throw plans out the window and just race your heart out. I sprinted off the line, expecting the pace to be fast from the start.

Before the first corner, I was off the front. Unintentional, but encouraging. I road hard, but within myself for the start loop and when I turned onto the 2-mile paved straight-away, leading to the base of the eight-mile climb, I looked over my shoulder. I had a pretty good gap.

I am supposed to draft here. Don’t blow up, conserve energy. Should I wait for the group behind me? Will they catch me? Just go!

I made myself as small as possible, put my head down and pedaled. I didn’t look back again. For the next 50 minutes, I climbed, up a hot double track gravel road, through a cool forest, and along exposed single track littered with wild flowers and shale.

At the top of the climb, I was still alone. Time to descend.

Smooth is fast, Bishop. You can do this.

The descent wasn’t too fast or too technical, but I had to be smart, choose my lines with care and accelerate out of every corner. There were two short climbs on the way down; the second of which was four miles from the finish, hot, loose, and painful. When I creased the top of that second climb, I knew I was close – but I had to stay focused.

A few tricky switch-backs, the rock waterfall, and the finish line. Be smart. You can do this.

I came around the last corner before the rock waterfall. For 12 months I have been thinking about this short, rocky bit of trail. It isn’t terribly hard, but very intimidating. Last year, I didn’t ride it. Since then, I had been working on skills that would allow me to do so – but I was still nervous.

Earlier in the week, a good friend of mine said something to me that stuck. “The winner should ride it.”

Without hesitation, I rode it (personal victory), made the last turn onto the gravel straight-away and crossed the finish line – celebrating.

The grin I wore for the rest of the afternoon might have been the cheesiest on record. I set a goal, followed the plan, and was now a National Champion.

As I stood on the podium, my eyes welled up, unexpectedly. I was overcome with gratitude. The support and love that has been shared with me is astonishing and I am so grateful to Ben, my team, my friends and my community.

I am celebrating my accomplishments and already looking forward to the next challenge. I have received my Pro Upgrade and will be racing with the uber fast women in September when we tackle the Marathon Mountain Bike Nationals, right here in beautiful Bend, Oregon.

This is the Calm Before the Storm.

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Mon, 02 Jul 2012 18:16:00 +0000

The nerves are starting to kick in. All this resting, not a lot of riding – just short, focused efforts that leave me wanting more.

Nationals are on Saturday.

There is good reason to be resting, but I find resting the hardest part of the process. It is a process.

Training, recovering, getting stronger, resting up, and, on the day, having legs that allow you to ride like you are being shot out of a cannon. That the goal anyway, right?

So, why is it so hard to rest?

When you ride, train, complete a workout, there is a sense of accomplishment. Numbers to prove you have done the work, the feeling of emptiness that fills you up as you roll home after doing something you didn’t think you can do.

Effort =Reward.

When it comes to rest, it takes effort, maybe even more, but a different type of effort. Resting takes patience and trust and focus. It is just as important as the work. But we don’t have anything to show for it; lounging in the hammock doesn’t produce file we can download to the computer and analyze and compare. We are left feeling lazy and unfocused and questioning.

At this point the work has been done. At this point, my legs are as strong as they are going to be. Hammering out another long ride or just-about-puked-in-my-mouth workout isn’t going to bring positive results – if anything, it will do the opposite.

This is where the trust comes in. Trust in the process, trust in my coach, trust in my body and mind – that they know what to do and will execute when called upon.

Now is a time to rest, eat well, and sleep soundly. Now is the calm before the storm.

Pickett's Charge

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Mon, 25 Jun 2012 23:13:00 +0000

Photo: Bill Warburton

The rain started falling Thursday night. The moon dust began to settle and by Saturday morning, the trails, that were dusty and loose just 48 hours before, turned to sweet, tacky, single track. Perfection.

And it kept raining, and hailing, and then the sun would come out, but only for a few brief moments, before once again hiding behind the bank of clouds that were swiftly making their way across the sky. June in Central Oregon – unpredictable and oh, so favorable.

Saturday morning I headed up to Wanoga, for a pre-ride lap and then the USAC Oregon State Championship Mountain Bike, otherwise known as the Oregon Qualifier. Because Oregon has OBRA (how very lucky we are), we are unable to “qualify” for nationals at any of our races. To work around that, Bill Warburton and Mike Ripley – in conjunction with The Bend Endurance Academy, put on a USAC race the day before Pickett’s Charge! This way, we Oregonians can qualify for Nationals without traveling to Northern Washington or California – it is rad.

So, I qualified for Nationals and in the process became the Oregon State Champ – sweet! But the real race was Sunday morning- PICKETT’S CHARGE!

I had been thinking about this race all season. The course is fast, with a few technical sections and a couple of lung-burning punchy climbs. I really wanted to win this race. It is here, in Bend. Home turf. Ben was going to be there. My friends and teammates were going to be racing. I won last year and didn’t want to lose the title. But, I had my work cut out for me.

We lined up in the rain. It felt more like the start of a cyclocross race than a mountain bike race. I smiled, knowing how good the trails would be.

The pace was fast from the gun and Sue and I moved to the front on the first climb of the start loop. We road together for the first couple of miles, the pace felt fast, but comfortable. I was right on Sue’s wheel when she clipped a pedal on a rock and went down. In an attempt to avoid rolling over her rear tire, I
went down too. After a quick, “Are you alright?”, I grabbed my bike and was off.

I didn’t look back, I just rode. Staying calm and focused, I rode as fast and as well as I knew how. I felt good on the down hills and smooth on the climbs. I made a couple of small mistakes, but didn’t let the distract me.

I came through the start finish, one lap down, one lap to go, I was in the led – but I had no idea by how much. I was excited, but still had a long way to go.

I started the second lap and gave myself a couple of reminders.

“Be smooth, don’t take chances, dig deep”

These words must have worked because I held onto the lead and cross the finish line first.

A few friends were at the finish, recovering from their efforts . It was so nice to see so many smiling faces and belong to such a supportive and inspiring community.

Big thanks to Team Sunnyside for putting on a great event and to Bill Warburton and Mike Riley for all the work you do to make mountain biking in Oregon full of AWESOME!

Blitz to the Barrel - A Bundle of Fun

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Tue, 19 Jun 2012 18:43:00 +0000

Post crash, trying to make up time

The Blitz to the Barrel, Dash for Cash.
An event I have avoided for the last two years.
An event that scared the heck out of me.
An event that I was not going to partake in.

Until, Eric Eastland, promoter extraordinaire, came up to me at Sisters Stampede.

"I have a spot for one more woman. Will you do it?"

Sue Butler was standing right there; she gave the the look of, "Come on, do it."

How could I say no?

So, for two weeks I worried. What had I gotten myself in to?

And then I realized I needed to practice. With the help of a couple of friends, I learned the lines and by race night, was feeling pretty good about my ability to get from Wanoga to 10 Barrel without killing myself.

The group of women racing was amazing. Strong, confident, powerful women. Katie Compton, Kelli Emmett, Joanna Petterson. I felt humbled and honored as we lined up for the start of the race.

I'll spare you the details, but in a nut-shell, I had a horrid start, crashed early (and hard) because I was following the wheel in front of me way too closely, and then spent 50 minutes chasing, chasing, chasing.

I crossed Century, at the bottom of Funner, 8 minutes into the race, in 9th or 10th. I came out of the single track and into Tetherow in 4th. SWEET! I held on to 4th place and finished with a less than stellar effort to chug a beer. Well, the effort was stellar, but the results were ugly. But, I got it down and then smiled a big smile.

Not my best event.

The boys raced next, then there was a band and arm wrestling and loads of silliness. The event was a blast and I can't wait until next year. In the meanwhile, I will be working on my hucking skills so I can take the jump at the golf course!

PS Thanks to Whit Bazemore for the photos!

Sisters Stampede: Earning the Belt Buckle

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Tue, 29 May 2012 18:35:00 +0000

I really wanted this belt buckle. I don’t normally covet large metal objects and I don’t have leanings toward western style – but I wanted this belt buckle, not for the buckle itself, but for what it represented: incremental improvement, hard work, and increased confidence.

No matter how strong you are, if you don’t believe you can win, you will not.

This weekend, I believed I could win. Ben had a long talk with me on Saturday night.

“If you want to reach your toes, then reach for your toes. Don’t stop at your knees.”

As silly as it might sound, these were the words that allowed me to believe in my abilities, in my training, in my legs – and in the possibility of winning the Sisters Stampede.

I rode smarter than I did last year. I took my turn at the front, but I didn’t lead out of the gate. When Sue got a gap, coming out of the start loop, I dug deep, caught her wheel and then led onto the single track.

Thirty minutes into the race, on the only real climb of the course, I put my head down and never looked back. That was the move that allowed me to get a gap. A gap that stuck.

It wasn’t until I crossed the line that knew I won. I was running scared – but staying focused – charging out of every corner, accelerating on every incline. One mistake and I could lose the lead.

With seven miles to go, the course curved around so I could see behind me; there were no other women in sight.

Go. Go. Go.

With one and a half miles to the finish, the course went from single track to double track. If someone was lurking behind me, this is where they would make the pass. I couldn’t let this happen. I shifted and pedaled harder. Even on the final straight away, I didn't let up.

I wanted to cross the finish line before I celebrated.

And then I smiled. A real smile. A real big smile.

Coming Home and Waking Up

noreply@blogger.com (Serena) — Thu, 24 May 2012 05:12:00 +0000

Coffee and Cake.

Last Thursday, Ben and I return from a holiday in Scotland. We were gone for two weeks. Two weeks of Sunday mornings – sleeping in, drinking good coffee, eating cake, riding bikes, sharing experiences with friends, and making new ones.

I lost track of the days, of the time of day, of the miles and the workouts and the agendas. We played and frolicked and smiled. I smiled a lot. I let myself go. Go from the have-to’s and expectations; the self-imposed expectations that seem to be unshakable at home. I was free from schedules and bills and chores.

One afternoon, while Ben and I were enjoying tea and cake, looking out the window of a small shop on the high street of Peebles, he said to me, “I love it when you smile a real smile.”

A real smile? Are most of my smiles false? No, they are not false, but they are also not deep-down, full-body celebrations; free from hesitation and self-doubt.

As our trip began to wind down and the realization that we would have to pack our bags in a few days set in, panic sweep over me. I didn’t want to lose this feeling of freedom and joy and celebration. I didn’t want to pack up my real smile. I wanted to keep it front-facing. I wanted to come home and show it off.

So, I made a commitment to myself. I would not put my real smile in a suitcase, hiding it away until our next holiday. I would take it back to Bend with me, as a carry-on.

Re-entry could have been tough - with jet-lag, and work schedules, and the lack of tea and cake - but coming home to Bend was brilliant. We were met at the airport by a good friend. Our puppy, Piper, was eager to see us. Our garden was a vibrant shade of green and the sauna was waiting.

And, I am working hard to keep my real smile with me. As strange as it might sound, it isn’t easy. The daily routine could easily take over, the schedules and plans and obligations could sneak in and hide-away my smile. But if there is one thing I was reminded of on our Scottish Holiday, it is that life is brilliant and green and joyous, no matter the weather – and everything is better with good friends, dirty bikes, and tea & cake.