I had an out of body experience while standing under the Construction Zone team tent a few weeks ago at an MBAA race. The team manager asked me if I wanted to join a four-woman Old Pueblo team at the last minute. Without hesitation, and with a great deal of enthusiasm in my voice, I
Our route planning commenced the same as it usually does. I volunteered a route, Artec responded with zero active listening signs, which annoyed me, so when he suggested a route I intentionally chose not to listen. I drew part of a track I thought looked good, Artec (still not really listening), told me he didn’t
To all those people commenting on social media about how women ask to be catcalled based on their attire, here’s what Kait and I were wearing: loose-fitting pants layered with loose-fitting shorts and topped off with puffy jackets. But I shouldn’t be expected to describe our clothes. In fact, the only situation in which I should be expected to describe what we were wearing would be if Search and Rescue was involved with saving us from hypothermia. Then, yes, the SAR team would deserve to know what kinds of layers we were bumbling around in at seven thousand feet on Christmas Day.
I picked myself up quickly, pedaled hard for a few strokes to gain some speed, and promptly clipped a pedal on a rock and flew over my handlebars – over the exposed edge of the trail – into a thicket of willows. It was like landing on a mattress! I peered over the edge of the willows and said a little prayer to the Goddess of Mountain Biking – it was steep!
My two teammates – both named Erin, both the youngest children in their families, both fairly quiet souls measuring 5’2 and weighing in at 103 pounds a piece – are capable of tooting cute little rainbows every once in awhile. I’ve witnessed it. But racing your bike all night long is disgusting business, and I
Goodbye low carb, buff rock climber, paleo inspired food mentality! You might work okay for some men, but for active women like myself, you do more harm than good. After years of night sweats and workouts plagued with low energy, a nutritionist friend finally confirmed something I’d been wondering: I need to eat more carbs.
When I took my new van to Flagstaff Auto Repair for the first time the manager told me the mechanics were worried I’d made a horrible mistake. I don’t blame them. At first glance, the van looks like it was never loved. The paint job is potentially the ugliest ever to roll into Flagstaff, plus
My dad and I used to spend the long drives discussing race strategies like, “play opossum for the first few miles,” “put a rascal move on the competition when they don’t expect it,” and, “don’t be a wounded animal when you start to feel tired.”
Artec and I flew into Liberia, Costa Rica on New Year’s Eve. We knew the trip was off to a good start when a cab driver in a tiny red economy car strapped Artec’s bike box to the roof and gestured for me to squeeze into the backseat and position myself on hands and knees
Easy Fuel for Early Morning Adventures