The end of the road

My cyclocross season had been a struggle. It almost felt as if the tribulations (#firstworldproblems) of my cross season were karmatic retribution for how smoothly my Mountain bike season went. I fully admit that one of the biggest issues was my own inability to let go of my goals when I was plagued with injury and illness and jest have fun riding. I couldn't let go of how I would have preferred doing and enjoy what I was actually doing. But after Woodstock I was actually looking forward to Indian Lakes. I had done well enough, felt strong enough, that I thought maybe I could handle the challenge of a double-race weekend and have some fun. Use that weekend as a building block to some hard training and try to make a good showing at the State Championship.

Then on Monday night everything shifted again. I was hanging out on Facebook and a relative posted an unambiguous status update that let me know my grandmother was no longer with us.

A bell that has been rung cannot be unrung.  I had just learned of my grandmother's passing through Facebook.

My Mom called me about 15 minutes later to offically share the news with me. The visitation was scheduled for Friday, the Funeral on Saturday. I cancelled the room I had reserved at Indian Lakes, and Morleigh and I spent the weekend in Wisconsin with family. The following weekend (Nov 17th) was the kick-off of the 9 day gun deer season, and I felt an obligation to make sure my father was not sitting alone on grandma's farm on the opening day of deer season. So I spent that Saturday and six of the next nine days chasing deer with my father.

Last March I had purchased a pair of tickets for my Mom to see one of her favorite singers, Andreas Bochelli, on Sun Dec 2nd. I bought the tickets without even thinking about cross, but even when I learned of the conflicting date it seemed like there would be time to do both, but as December approached and we started to work out the logistics, it seemed like it would be very hard to show my Mom a good time and also make it to Montrose to race. It was a confluence of familial responsibilities, if not a storm of them. I perhaps I could have squeezed space for myself to continue racing cross around those responsibilities, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to do. So in the days leading up to my Grandma's visitation I decided the right thing to do was to hang up my Cross shoes for the season, spend November focusing on my family, and start riding again in December.

In addition, I was just burnt out. I did some Google mapping a few days ago and confirmed that Morleigh and I drove more than 3,000 miles to race about 100 miles in the WORS series this summer. This were addition to the local race at Palos, a pair of gravel metric centuries, and seven cross races. It felt like I just needed some time out of the saddle. So between the last race in Woodstock and November 27th I rode less than 10 miles in total, one day of commuting in the city to the loop and back. I started back up again on the 27th with a 20 miles outing in the blackness of rural McHenry County

Riding in the dark, after some time off the saddle, on a chilly night, in an area with hills, was disorienting. I did not know those roads well enough to feel totally comfortable being out there in the dark. It felt like I was going up hill and into the wind the whole way.

I did go to Montrose with my camera on Sunday.  I was able to shoot from the first race until the middle of what would have been my race before leaving to head out to the burbs.  I needed to get cleaned up and ready to be a good host for my Mom.  I wanted to make it a special night.  I know I missed an exciting finish in the Men's 1/2/3 race and the spectacle of the 4bs, but when my Mom said she had the experience of a lifetime it was a no-brainer.  I made the right choice.

So my next race is going to be the Barry Roubaix.  Lots of cold hard miles between now and then.  Time to HTFU and start over again for next year.  "You don't wrestle until you get tired, you wrestle until the Gorilla gets tired."