So What is a Pro Training Camp Really Like?
Posted on February 22, 2014 7 Comments
I left home in October with nothing but a duffel bag and my bike, thinking I was just going on another training camp. My experience was so much better than anything I could have imagined; it was the trip of a lifetime. I’ve already written about my adventures in California, Tucson and Tampa, but let me fill you in on what happened after Christmas: another Canada track camp and my first TIBCO camp.
The track camp was a selection camp and probably the most difficult 17 days of my life. We did 24 training rides in 17 days and almost all of them were long and brutally hard. The last 5 days we spent riding a minimum of 4 hours per day in the Santa Monica mountains. I was beyond cracked and it was sheer willpower that got me out of bed and onto my bike each morning…..will power and an obscene amount of coffee. At the end of the camp I was exhausted and happy to be back at the Maynards. I parked my bike on the patio, put on my pyjamas and refused to leave bed, except to shuffle (yes, shuffle, walking was way too hard) to the fridge, for the next two days. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wrecked in my life. After 48 hours of sleep, food and Netflix I started to feel a bit more alive and did a few easy training rides before flying to SanFran for the start of the TIBCO team camp. Apparently the training paid off though; my quads were gigantic and I managed to break a cleat, rear derailleur and wheel over the three rides before leaving for camp. For weeks I had been excitedly counting down the days to the start of the TIBCO training camp. I couldn’t wait to meet my team mates, train under the new team director, and try out the new equipment and it was finally time.
Being at a pro camp was a whole new experience; it was incredible! I had become accustomed to being self-sufficient and suddenly everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, was taken care of leaving me with nothing to do but focus on training and recovery. I flew into SanFran with a ticket that had been booked and paid for and was greeted by our wonderful mechanic. Driving to the team house in the decaled team van was the first time that the reality of being a pro cyclist started to really sink in. This was actually happening! Who’da thunk?!? A year ago I was just learning how to use clip in pedals…..heck, some days I still forget how clip in pedals work, yet here I was.
We got to the team house in Menlo Park where a fleet of Fuji bikes waited for us. Each with a decal corresponding to the rider. The fridge and pantry had been stocked to the brim with all the foods essential to an athlete’s diet, a few goodies, and of course Peets’ coffee. On our beds we each found a giant Rudy Project bag stuffed to the brim with equipment and treats: loads of Voler clothing for every imaginable weather condition, Peet’s coffee, Powerbar gels, bars and powders to fuel our rides and recovery, the full line of Zevlin body care products and a personalized towel, Rudy helmets and glasses (including the super awesome sparkly skull hypermasks I’d wished for….SWEET!!), calendars, Prologo gloves, and even a personalized Park Tool multitool.
The next morning we took our new bikes for a rip; the bike felt incredible! Light and stiff and snappy, decked out with electronic Ultegra di2. I couldn’t wait to race it. When we got home muddy and freezing and hungry we didn’t have to do anything but shower and eat. All the chores, like washing bikes, that we had at home were taken care of. After lunch we were taken to the Revolutions in Fitness studio to see physiotherapist and bike fit guru, Curtis. Two hours later the months of wear and tear and abuse I’d put my body through had been massaged and adjusted and stretched away, and my bike had been totally optimized from saddle height to cleat position. I was feeling fresh and powerful and ready.
The next few days we spent riding with local group rides, meeting sponsors and giving talks to a couple local clubs. It was so much fun to meet people, hear their stories, and answer questions. In the evenings there was time to get to know the other women on team. I’m really excited to be a part of such an amazing squad. Each of these women has so much talent and potential, most of them already have impressive resumes and all of them are just awesome, fun and inspiring people. To read all about my awesome team mates, check out their athlete profiles at here. After a few days it was time to head south to Prismo where we would spend several days with the Voler, Shimano and Fuji company reps to learn about the awesome equipment we would be using. We lived in a hotel overlooking the ocean, ate at awesome restaurants and were generally spoiled rotten. All we had to do was train.
For the most part the rides were pretty mellow but our director made sure we earned our stay with a couple brutal work outs. First was team time trial drills in what was probably the most extreme weather conditions California ever gets. It was just above freezing, pouring rain with a bitter wind and we were training on the muddy back roads outside of Prismo. After several hours I was exhausted, freezing and very happy to be on the way back to the hotel. Soaked to the bone and caked in mud, we definitely earned our keep that day.
The next hard day took us to a steep, long climb that we were told to race up. It was bloody hard and just when you thought you had reached the top and it was going to be easy you turned onto a muddy, gravel descent that was anything but a chance for recovery, that lead to another, steeper climb. At the top of the second climb we met our director, who was pleased, and so we could return to the hotel. What was really nice about being at camp, especially on those hilly rides, was that we had a follow car so all we had to carry on our bikes was a bottle and a couple bars. Everything else was taken care of. The car had spare wheels, extra bottles, extra food, extra clothes. Basically anything you could possibly need or want. No heavy, over stuffed jersey pockets!
The following day we drove to Carpinteria for the last part of the camp. Finally we were far enough south for the sunshine and warmth I had enjoyed all winter and, after a week of freezing cold rain, I was ecstatic to be back in SoCal. With the warm weather came the really hard training but after numerous easier rides it was good to be back in the pain cave on a more regular basis. The 10km climb up Mt Gibraltar at race pace left my legs feeling punished and was followed up by a fast ride with hill sprints the next day. Aside from training, our stay in Carpinteria was used for tea photography and to meet the U23 and TTII squads. Watch out for the TIBCO development riders! They’re bound to make quite the impact in the sport over the next few years, there are some strong girls on the U23 squad!
Over the past four months I feel like I have learned so much about myself and grown as a rider and a person. I wake up in the morning filled with happiness and gratitude and excitement, eager to see what life has in store for me next. It was good to go back home after months of being away. A week of seeing friends, going to work and riding with the Tripleshot gang before packing up my bags again. Next up? Europe to race the spring classics in Belgium and Holland. Lots of these races will be on TV so make sure to tune in and cheer on the TIBCO ladies!
What a Difference a Year Makes
Posted on January 20, 2014 7 Comments
It has been exactly one year since I started training as a cyclist and looking back it’s amazing to see how different my life is now from 12 months ago. I would like to start by thanking all the people that contributed to make this possible.
Thank You Everyone
First, Tripleshot Cycling and Trek Pro City for encouraging me to actually try bike racing, being amazing training partners and coaches, and for coming together to make sure that I had the equipment and financial resources needed to make racing independently at an elite level possible. It is because of these amazing people that I had both a road bike and a time trial bike to train and race on, and that I was able to compete at the National Road Championships. One day I hope to be able to pay it forward. Obviously a huge thank you to my friends and family for their incredible support and understanding as I embark on this adventure. I am fortunate to have such an incredible group of people behind me. Another thank you to the companies that reached out and offered support in the very early stages of my career: CBT, Rumble and Zed Wheels. I have truly enjoyed working with each of you and have nothing but good to say about each of these companies.
Throughout the season I also routinely crashed on peoples couches, futons, guest beds etc and I would like to thank all of my wonderful hosts for inviting me into their homes. Providing me with a place to sleep allowed me to go to so many more races than I would have been able to afford had I been staying in hotels. On a similar note, thank you to the numerous clubs and group rides that have welcomed me into cycling communities around the world. There is no better way to find the best roads and tastiest coffee than to follow the local roadies. Thanks to the host housing and group rides I have met some truly awesome people and I am thankful for these new friendships. Stay in touch!
Thank you Cycling Canada for providing me with the opportunity to race in Europe, the honor of representing my country at international races, and the introduction to track cycling. The chance to work under some of the best coaches in the world and alongside Canada’s top cyclists has taught me so much about the sport and taken my training to a whole new level. Furthermore, the Canadian Sport Institute has given me the opportunity to work with an integrated services team: nutritionist, strength and conditioning coach, and mental performance coach. This support has been invaluable to me and will undoubtedly yield results in the upcoming season. 
I would also like to thank Team TIBCO to the Top for believing in me and providing me the opportunity to take the next step in my cycling career. I can barely wait to make my debut as a professional cyclist with you. Global Relay Bridge the Gap will be playing a big role in my 2014 season and I would like to thank them for their generous support, especially given my brief career and resume.
All in a Year
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be where I am today. Just a year ago I was your average girl. I was studying cell and molecular biology at the University of Victoria, conducting research on retinal development under Dr Robert Chow, and working part time at a job I hated to pay the rent for a crappy apartment I shared with my cat and partner at the time. In my free time I did what you would expect of a woman in her early twenties: I was a runner, I partied, and I hung out with my friends. Fast forward one year and the only thing that has stayed the same is the cat: Boston is still here.
Other than that EVERYTHING has changed! I traded high heels and skimpy tops for carbon soled bike shoes and lycra, started training and eating like an athlete, and quit the job I hated to join the amazing crew at Trek Pro City. Now I find myself doing sprint intervals at the crack of dawn rather than coming home from last night’s theme party; and going to work is more like hanging out with friends than a despised chore. Gone is the crazy land lady and crappy apartment, replaced by a wonderful room in an amazing house. Also gone is the long hair and the boyfriend and the need to be at home. Now I cut my own hair with clippers in the bathroom sink and travel all over the world with nothing but my bike and a duffel bag. In the last four months I’ve been in Los Angeles, Tampa, Tucson, Hamburg and Lahr. Next month I’ll go home for the first time since October but stay just long enough to wash my clothes before heading out again to race in France, Belgium and the Netherlands. I love the freedom and excitement of my new life and can hardly believe it was ever any different! 
The Highs and Lows of 2013
2013 was a real roller coaster with both the highest and some of the lowest experiences of my life. All in all it was a good one though.
The year started off less than ideally. I was trying to balance school, work, research, a relationship, training and occasionally sleep. Needless to say I had way too much on my plate and ultimately things went side ways. My relationship of four years disintegrated before my eyes leaving me trying to find a place to live and struggling to regain my footing as an individual instead of part of a couple while the deadlines for exams, term papers and my thesis approached. I somehow managed to salvage my studies and research but there were a few nights spent crying in bed with my cat. My friends and riding partners got me through this rough patch and I threw my heart and soul into training. A few weeks later, diploma secured and thesis printed, I rolled up to the start line of my first bike race: Barry’s Roubaix. This was the start of the highs: I finished more than seven minutes ahead of second place immediately making a name for myself on the local racing circuit. I followed up my inaugural victory with another first place finish at Race the Ridge, this time with a nine minute lead. Each race I grew stronger, more confident and more determined. Trek Pro City gave me a brand new Trek Madone and I was over the moon; then I got hit by a truck. My brand new bike was demolished and I had a concussion that prevented me from training. It seemed that 2013 just wasn’t going to be my year. Frustrated I took some time off to recover before carefully getting back into training just in time for the Mutual of Enumclaw Stage Race: three wins and the GC jersey, I was back in full force just in time for the Canadian Road Cycling Championships.
My time in Quebec started off in a less than ideal manner: I crashed on the first training 
day and suffered heat stroke that left me vomiting, shaky and sore. My hopes for the first event, the time trial, were modest. It was the first time I would be racing on a real time trial bike, the first time racing in a hot and humid climate, and the first time racing against a large, elite field. I shocked myself, my coach and the Canadian cycling world when I beat all but Joelle to take the silver medal. I followed up my time trial with an equally shocking seventh place finish in the road race the next day. Not only had I finished in the top ten, but I had been in every single break away and repeatedly 
made aggressive moves ensuring that my name would be heard and known. The icing on the cake was the 9th place finish in the last event of the Championships: the criterium.
That weekend marked the end of the lows and the start of a whole lot of highs. Within a month of the National Championships I had signed a pro contract with Team TIBCO to the Top, accepted an offer to represent Canada at several European races, found myself in the selection pool for World Championships, and had been invited to learn how to ride and race the track alongside Canada’s best track cyclists. I still cannot believe that my life now consists of traveling the world racing my bike! The freedom, challenge and fulfillment of my new life is incredible; every day I am living the dream. Thank you everyone for getting me here. I can hardly wait to see what 2014 brings my way.
Looking Ahead to 2014 and Beyond
So what does 2014 look like? January I have spent training hard on the Los Angeles Velodrome with Cycling Canada. Following some testing on the track I’ll be heading into the Santa Monica Mountains for an endurance training camp with Cycling Canada before going to the TIBCO team camp. Then it’s home for a few days before I have a go at the Northern Classics starting with Omloop Het Nieuwsblad on March first. For the first part of the season I will be focusing on learning as much as I can while supporting my team mates to the best of my abilities. Later in the season it will be time to refocus on my time trialing and team time trialing fitness. I’m daring to dream big and have my heart set on the National and World Championships this year.
While the world of road cycling promises to keep life exciting and challenging, I will also be spending a fair amount of time on the track this year. Turns out that going really fast in a circle is actually pretty fun! And who knows, if I keep working hard Rio 2016 might be in the cards….
Tucson Training Camp
Posted on December 29, 2013 Leave a Comment
What happens when you put two pro cyclists in a house in the middle of the desert for 10 days? One seriously EPIC training camp! 8 training rides covering 898km with 7,647m elevation gain over 32 hours, burning 10,452 calories.
Saguaro National Park
Joelle and I were lucky to have a wonderful host, Karen, who invited us into her beautiful Tucson home. Having a couple women sleep in your guest room for a few nights might not seem like a big deal, but we are not average house guests. We arrived with over 200lbs of equipment (two bikes, rollers, recovery powders, clothes, massage sticks, tools, electronics etc), eat more food than a small village resulting in a complete take over of the kitchen and fridge, and are often exhausted enough to fall asleep in odd places at weird times.
….and this is just my half of the stuff
Additionally, we brought a whirlwind of energy into a normally quiet home. Kind of like Dr. Seus’ Thing 1 and Thing 2. Karen was truly wonderful and understanding and tolerant of all of this. Thank you! Plus, she spoiled us rotten! When we weren’t on our bikes or passed out, Karen kept us fed (many, many trips to Whole Foods, Starbucks and sushi restaurants) and entertained with shopping, movie theaters, and Christmas baking. Oh, and a HUGE thank you for that one time when a sliced tire left us stranded out in the Arizona desert and she came to the rescue. We did our best to be good house guests but are obviously a bit more high maintenance than most, especially when you get two for the price of one. I don’t think we scared her off though and both of us are super excited to visit Karen again! Thank you!
If you’re ever looking for a place to road ride, Tucson has to be one of the best. The city is in a valley so, no matter which way you ride, you will always have to climb. One of my favorite rides took me up Mt Lemmon: 40km (25miles) at 4 to 6% grade. Normally 40km isn’t very much, nor is a 4% climb, but when you combine those two things you get a 3 hour character building suffer fest that force feeds you humble pie and reminds you that “the bonk” is a real thing.
View from the halfway point
For those lucky enough never to have experienced “the bonk”, let me tell you a bit about it. “The bonk” happens when you push yourself so far into the red that your body freaks out, likely accompanied by a mental break down. It is also referred to as “bonking”, “cracking”, or “hitting the wall”. When this happens you are S.O.L. because no number of gels, goops, bars or tears is going to make you feel any better.
That day I had planned on three or four hours fairly easy riding so I had filled two bottles with plain old tap water and grabbed a Lara bar and a banana on my way out the door. It took one hour and half a bottle to get from the house to the bottom of Mt Lemmon. Another bottle and a bar got me another hour and about 8 miles up the hill. Another hour, a banana and the second bottle later I was only 14 miles up the hill (I knew this thanks to the infuriating mile markers that served as a constant reminder of how far I still had to go). That left no water, no food and 11 miles to the top.
Starting the climb
I should mention that there is no where to obtain water or food between the bottom and the top of Mt Lemmon. But, I’m stubborn and a wee bit stupid so, instead of admitting defeat and turning around like a sane person, I was determined to conquer the climb and kept pedaling.
A few miles later I was thirsty, hungry and grumpy. Not too far after that I was starving, my legs had turned to useless mush weighing about a thousand pounds each, grumpy had turned to angry and I was moving forward at a whopping pace of 8mph. Only 6 miles left though and there was a village at the top. The promise of food and a cola convinced me to keep pedaling. Couple more miles and I reached the snow line. Perfect! Of course I didn’t have anything other than my summer kit with me. Stupid winter. Stupid snow. Stupid Christmas. Stupid bicycle.
Almost there…..not really
Another mile and I had turned blue from the cold, my hands were too numb to shift and I was craving a big box of thai food. Of course I was still too stubborn and stupid to turn around. Another mile and I knew that this was “the bonk”: I was in tears, talking to myself out loud and actually considered eating the road kill I had just ridden by. The only reason I didn’t throw my bike down the side of the mountain at that point was because the lack of cell phone reception would mean that I would have to walk 23 miles down the mountain back into town. And then, just when I thought I couldn’t possibly make it any further, I reached the top: Summerhaven village. For a few brief moments I was filled with euphoria. There was a restaurant, a general store and the “Cookie Cabin”. I had made it! I wasn’t going to die on the side of mountain. Yippee!! …….wait……no lights, no people, no sign of life. $H!T!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Yes. Closed. Every single shop was closed. I desperately checked and re-checked the door of every single building that looked like they might sell anything even close to food or water. Nothing. There was literally not a single person to be seen anywhere.
No amount of sobbing (and there was a fair amount of that at this point) was going to change the fact that I was 8000ft up the side of the mountain with no cell phone reception and not a living soul in site so, after a minor temper tantrum, I slowly, painfully and pathetically started pedaling my broken body back home. Luckily it was a downhill ride from here or I don’t think I would have made it. The descent takes almost an hour and then there was another hour to get back to the house but at this point I was in a daze; the time and miles slipping by. As soon as I reached Tucson I stopped at a Circle K, bought the biggest sugariest soda I could find and frantically gulped it down somehow managing to pour most of it down the front of my jersey. Never has anything tasted so good…..ever……in the history of mankind. The rest of the ride flew by and before I knew it I was back at the house. I threw my bike into the back room incredibly grateful that tomorrow was a rest day. I had no desire to even see that man made torture device for the next 48 hours. Bicycles are stupid. After hoovering a huge plate of delicious food I sat in the shower, too tired to stand, before stumbling into my bedroom and falling into a coma for the next 14 hours. But I finished the climb and got a few of those shiny Strava crowns so it was all worth it, right?
The big reason we chose Tucson as a training base, aside from the mountains, was the famous group rides. The oldest and most famous is the Tucson Shoot Out, which leaves from the Starbucks on Euclid and University Blvd (right by the UofA campus) at 7:30 am on Saturday morning. The group starts out really mellow with 20 or 30 riders but apparently has its own gravitational pull. By the time we reached the open desert the group had swollen to about 80 riders. Everyone was fit and everyone was fast. The peloton, studded with pro and national team jerseys, filled the whole right hand side of the road, occasionally spilling into the other lane and eliciting angry honks and yells from oncoming traffic. From the last light at the city limits to the bridge at the 15 mile marker is a full on race. The bragging rights you would get from winning the Saturday morning world championships are obviously worth risking life and limb. I saw an attack going out of the corner of my eye and managed to jump on the wheel as it passed by. Before I knew it I found myself in a break away with 5 or 6 really strong looking dudes. We worked smoothly together until my pink bicycle and girlish figure was noticed. One of the boys looked at me in disbelief before turning around to the wheelsuckers that had been sitting in the break, skipping pulls and hollering ” there’s a f***ing chick up here pulling you p**sies”. That was enough to bruise some egos and spice things up. Within seconds the break away had exploded and I had been unceremoniously dropped.
The rest of the ride was much more mellow and I took the time to meet some of the other riders, including Kathryn Bertine. This woman is amazing! For those who don’t recognize the name, Kathryn is the director of the new film Half the Road and one of the leaders in the pursuit of equality for women in cycling. Check out her website here to find out more details about her documentary, make a donation or get some sweet swag to show your support of womens’ cycling.
The ten days in Tucson went by way too quickly and, after a quick stop in L.A., I was on my way to Germany. Time for Christmas with the family!
Reconnecting with my California friends pre-flight
Florida Fun
Posted on December 21, 2013 Leave a Comment
After almost an entire calendar year of uninterrupted training and racing, I decided to take a week for “mental wellness”. I booked a flight to Tampa, Florida, to visit Heather. Who’s Heather? She’s my person; my best friend of almost a decade (and that’s a really, really long time by base brat standards). She’s the kind of friend that I can be too busy to talk to for a year and then show up on her doorstep without warning and know that it will be like I never even left. Sure enough, that night, and every night for the whole week, we sat on the patio laughing, telling stories and drinking wine. 50 years from now I think we will still be doing the exact same thing; I don’t think it’s even possible for the laughter and conversation to run out.
However, time was running out before the racing season started so I had to bring along my bike to keep training. The next morning I got my first taste of Florida riding. 
It was so hot and humid it felt like I was riding in a sauna. There was a good wind but all it was doing was pushing hot, smothering, stale air against my sticky skin. Within minutes I was completely drenched and miserable. Within an hour I had run out of sweat and was “salting” instead. White lines had appeared across my kit, in the creases of my arms and legs, around my eyes, and down my cheeks. With each passing second those lines thickened; itching and burning and cutting into my exhausted flesh. Normally a three hour training ride would be nothing special, but today it took every ounce of willpower to keep going. I passed the time by trying to focus on the scenery and wildlife around me. That first training ride I saw a tortoise, snake, alligator, two deer and a bald eagle…..or maybe I was just hallucinating from the heat.
Every day I procrastinated longer, dreading the seemingly endless hours of sweaty, miserable pedaling. As a result each day’s ride later in the day, hotter and more miserable. Every once in a while the heat would become so extreme that I would go momentarily insane and actually wish for the rain and snow and darkness currently reigning over the training rides back home in Victoria. But a few hours of discomfort a day was a small price to pay for a week with my best friend so I sucked it up and kept pedaling, eventually getting used to the heat and suffering just a little bit less.
The one ride that was the exception to the usual solo suffer fest that week was the day that Pete invited me along on the military group ride. I was expecting the usual group ride crowd and dynamics, but was surprised when I showed up to a group of very fit, 
very young, rather dapper looking gentlemen on very, very, very nice racing bikes. Carbon and Dura-Ace and big name brands. Not only did they look legit, about two minutes into the ride I realized that most of these guys were serious athletes. Turns out many of them were part of the special forces (Navy SEALs etc) so fitness was a big part of their careers. I was the only woman on the ride and I wasn’t about to let them beat me so for a solid hour I attacked and attacked, whittling down the group until only one remained. It was close, and I think I was seeing two roads at this point, but shear determination and stubbornness forced me to cling to his wheel, working up the strength to rise out of the saddle and come around him on the final stretch. It was a great ride and I seriously hope I get invited back next time I’m in Tampa!
For the first time in a very long time riding was not the top priority in my day and so, while I was religious about my training, I really spent this week having fun with the people I love. Heather’s sister, Stephanie, and brother, Ian, were also in Tampa and so it was almost exactly like being back in high school when our parents’ houses were less than a mile apart and we were inseparable.
The only difference was that we could all cook now (not that long ago we almost burned down her parent’s house attempting to fry bacon) and now there was no “adult” supervision because technically we were adults…….scary!! I had never been to the sunshine state before and so the time we didn’t spend sitting on the patio and laughing hysterically, was spent showing me the southern ways. We went to “Hogan’s Beach” for a Dirty Heads concert, ate boiled peanuts and gator ribs, and walked on the beach. Far too quickly the week came to an end and, before I knew it, it was time to pack my bags and head back to the airport. It was time to get back to reality; back to training. I’m sad to be leaving. I know that our busy lives will probably mean that we won’t talk often. But I also know that the next time I knock on the door it will be exactly like this time; like I never even left. Next stop? Tucson to train in the mountains and the desert with Joelle.
The Foreigner’s Guide to Cycling in the L.A. Area
Posted on December 5, 2013 Leave a Comment
During the 5 weeks I spent training in SoCal this year I did my best to infiltrate the local cycling community so I could learn all the native secrets. Here is a list of the top 10 tips I learned:
- Bring a navigation device! The streets are not in a grid, sometimes streets change names halfway through for no apparent reason, and there is a multitude of intersections that completely lack street signs. Additionally, the roads all have names like “Yellow Brick Rd” and “Diamond St”; cute but useless when you’re lost.
“Via Canada St”…eh?
- There is a bike path through the beach from Redondo to Santa Monica. No traffic, no stops, and spectacular views of the mountains, palm trees and sunsets. You might even get lucky and see a pod of dolphins playing in the surf.
Sunset viewed from the path on the Strand
- Looking for some stellar climbing? Take the beach path or Pacific Coast Highway out to the Santa Monica mountains. For a tougher 10-12% suffer fest head up Las Flores, or keep heading north to Malibu Canyon for a lower grade, Euro style climb. Take Malibu Canyon to Piuma Rd, which has the added bonus of start/finish lines and countdown markers for one of the areas most prestigious Strava crowns.
At the top of the mountains
- Now that you’ve made it to the top, one way or another, it’s time to come back down. Tuna Canyon is the only way to go! This super steep, windy, one way road is guaranteed to fine tune your descending skills and get your heart pounding. Plus you’ll have a shot at winning the Red Bull Road Rage Strava crown. Talk about bragging rights!!
- While the mountains are obviously phenomenal, Palos Verdes also has some pretty awesome road riding. One loop around PV is about 25 miles , has few stops, great views, a variety of climbs and little traffic. Just follow the Palos Verdes streets: There is a PV North, East, South and West that all intersect to make a loop around “the Hill”. The names are based on tbe streets position relative to the big hill that is Palos Verdes. PV East has a great climb called “the Switchbacks” and PV South is perfect for intervals as there is a huge section free of lights and stop signs.
The view from PV South
- One of the most important things to know is a good bike shop. My favorites were the Bike Palace and Helen’s Cycles. Great selection and awesome staff! For anything track related Bill Ron is the only guy to go to. Don’t let the clutter, casual atmosphere and tiny space fool you! He has all the best track equipment and is 6-time world champ Sarah Hammer’s personal mechanic. Plus, he makes a point of helping out elite riders, especially during race time.
Meeting the owner and staff at the Bike Palace
- Group rides are a great way to meet the locals and there are a ton of group rides in the South Bay! For something fast and challenging check out the “Donut Ride”. On the more mellow side, the PV Bike Chicks is a women’s only, social ride catering to varying abilities. On holidays show up at the Manhattan Beach Starbucks at 7:55am for a Holiday ride that includes at least a dozen clubs and several hundred riders. Just remember to follow group ride etiquette! Introduce yourself, sign the waivers, pay the club fee….you know, the basics 😉
Thanksgiving Holiday Ride (about 300 riders)
- With the number of locally owned restaurants in the area you should never find yourself tempted by the greasy fast food chains. Start the day off right with a super healthy breakfast at the Yellow vase. Egg white omelettes filled with fresh veggies and real chicken breast (not the deli crap), and served with a side salad and sauteed potato wedges. There are four locations but the best is hidden in the corner of the plaza in Malaga cove.
The Yellow Vase in Malaga Cove
Prepping for a long day in the saddle? Get your carb on at Aliotta’s, an Italian restaurant, where everything is prepared from scratch by Chef Mike. Mike immigrated from Italy and his homemade pasta and vino will make you think you’re in his home town of Sicily, not the outskirts of Los Angeles. Its also the favorite restaurant of the Belgium National team so if they are in town you are guaranteed to see them at Aliotta’s for dinner. Finally, a trip to SoCal wouldnt be complete without good Mexican food. Check out the Red Onion! Owned and operated by a Mexican family, the Red Onion has been a community staple since the 50’s when people would ride their horses to the restaurant. Chipotle and Del Taco make way! This is the real deal and it’s DELICIOUS!! Plus most meals are less than $12. If you have special diet requirements the Venice Ale House is for you! Healthy, organic and local, their menu offers a range of vegan and gluten free options as well as other athlete friendly foods like bison and quinoa.
- Every once in a while you need a little treat. When dessert time rolls around there’s a few hidden gems guaranteed to satisfy your sweet craving. Creme de la Crepe offers a full menu of fruity,chocolatey, caramely deliciousness filled crepes, or get in the fall mood with their pumpkin waffles. Everything is better with pumpkin spice! The Manhattan Beach Creamery is another must-have. The front display showcases dozens of miniature gourmet cupcakes but the best treats are hidden in the back: homemade ice cream sandwiches including “strawberry shortcake” (sugar cookies with strawberry swirl vanilla ice cream) and “salted caramel” (chocolate dipped chocolate chip cookies with caramel ice cream and a sprinkle of sea salt).
- After a hard training block it’s time to reward yourself with an ice cold beer. Best place, hands down, is Naja’s Place. Hidden underneath the Redondo Pier, this tiny bar is home to the local fishermen and offers 88 beers on tap with a breathtaking view of the water and the sunset. The perfect way to end your SoCal visit!
New Friends and New Places
Posted on November 28, 2013 2 Comments
It has been over two weeks since I arrived in L.A. and it has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. There is not a single doubt left in my mind that this trip was exactly the right decision. So much has happened I don’t even know where to begin. The training has been unbelievable and every day I feel stronger and more ready for the upcoming season, both physically and mentally. What has really made this experience amazing though has been the people I have met. I am absolutely humbled by the kindness and generosity of everyone. Hopefully I will one day be in a position to pay it forward to the next generation of aspiring cyclists.
I landed in California and was greeted by one of my friends and sponsors, Mark Milburn, who had rented a truck and suite for us. He also gave me a brand new Catalyst skinsuit to rock in my upcoming races. 
The first week went as I had imagined: Mark and I trained sunrise to sunset, cooked and slept, the satisfying fatigue of hard training quickly settling in.
It was on the first “rest day” that things took a most unexpected turn. I had sent a facebook message to a local bike club, the PV Bike Chicks, asking to join them on their Saturday morning ride. I had met some of their members the last time I was in L.A. when I asked them if they could take a photo of my team mates and I on the beach. Unfortunately, we did not have time to ride with them during that training camp and so I was hoping to meet up with them during this trip. What I thought would be a leisurely recovery ride turned out to be a 3 hour hill training session where I got my butt whooped by those ladies. Turns out their club has almost 300 members, all women, and their average age is 55. How badass is that? These chicks seriously rock! I went for another ride with them a couple days later and registered as a member of the club. I am now officially a PV Bike Chick! Yay!!
What I did not foresee was how that second ride would end. Nancy, one of the chicks, invited me to join her for a luncheon followed by a movie. All I had with me was the smelly, gross spandex I had been sweating in for the last 3 hours but she assured me that it was no problem. We rode up to one of the most beautiful houses I had ever seen and I walked into what looked like a home right out of a magazine spread. 
It was gorgeous! I showered and changed into brand new clothes that had been laid out for me before we headed to her luncheon. What awaited me was the most high class, elegant gathering I had ever been a part of and I did my best to act like a lady. Speak properly, be polite, use the proper utensils, make sure the brain-mouth filter was working, refrain from cursing like a sailor. Somehow I made it through without putting my giant foot in my even bigger mouth. It was such a cool experience and the ladies were all super welcoming. 
Over the following week Nancy showed me around town, introduced me to all the best bike shops, took me to a book signing and was all around one of the most amazing and generous people I have ever met.
Carolyn, another PV Bike Chick, and her family blew me away with their generosity when they offered me a place to stay in their beautiful Palos Verdes home for the following week. The entire family has been so welcoming and awesome! I seriously love all of them! Every night I sit at the bar with Bernie and Larry, Carolyn’s parents, for cocktail hour and sip wine while they tell stories and have political debates. They are truly wonderful and I am sad to be leaving.My final week in California I will be spending with Carolyn’s sister, Teresa. The entire Maynard gang has made me feel like a part of the family and I am very thankful to them for their hospitality. The best part is that I get to spend Thanksgiving with them, my first American Thanksgiving, and if there’s one person that knows how to do holidays right, it’s Bernie Maynard! Bring on the turkey!
On the recreation and social side of things California has been great but what about the training and racing? It has been spectacular! The intensity and focus of my training here is off the charts. The sun is always shining, the velodrome is full of Olympic history, and the mountains are laced with leg destroying climbs and exhilarating descents.
Best of all I have had two opportunities to race on the velodrome. The first week I was in town I raced in the South Bay Wheelmen Time Trial tournament and got my first taste of what real track racing would be like; I got my butt whooped. I was competing against the entire USA team, including 6-time world champion Sarah Hammer. I thought I was pretty fast but those ladies put me to shame. 
Having gotten a short preview of the damage the USA team could do I was getting nervous for the LA Grand Prix the following weekend. The GP would bring in top cyclists from all over the world including additional World Championship and Olympic medalists from Mexico, Canada and Columbia.
Furthermore, so many women had registered for the omnium that there would be a qualification points race, and only the top 24 women would move on to compete in the omnium. I had only raced one points race in my life and it had been on the 333m Victoria track in a field of only 6 or 7 riders. I hardly felt prepared to be rolling off the rail on a 250m track with over a dozen of the 
world’s best track cyclists. As is the case anytime you’re nervous about something, time sped up and before I knew it I was in the pit warming up for the qualifying race. It was game time.
As I sat waiting for the race to start I could feel the panic building and my thoughts started racing, my nerves threatening to overwhelm me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus. I had come up with just a couple simple goals, just a few things to focus on:
- No tail gunning; be confident and stay near the front
- Stay high to avoid getting boxed in and so that I would have the banking to help me accelerate
- Follow Gillian.
Goals 1 and 2 were accomplished easily enough. Goal 3? Not so much. My guess was that Gillian would try to get in an early break away to secure herself some points in the first sprint lap. Even if you only got a single point it would be enough to make it through the qualifier. Sure enough, just a few laps into the race Gillian attacked and immediately gaped the field by a lot.
Only one woman managed to get on her wheel and, before I even registered what was happening, they had a quarter lap on the field and were working well together, pulling further and further away. I was about mid-pack but still well within striking distance, at least by road racing standards…..this was not road racing. I stood and put all the power I had into the pedals, using the banking to accelerate out of the pack and down to the black line. First mistake: I chose WAY too big a gear. Instead of an explosive acceleration, it was a painfully slow grind as I struggled to get on top of my gear. As my cadence and speed picked up I was gaining on Gillian and the other woman, but my slow motion attack had given the other 10 women time to get on my wheel. I was towing the whole field with me and I was now stuck at the front of the pack with no idea what to do. My mind went blank so I just kept pedaling. Rookie move. As I pulled the break back I eased off just enough to flush my legs out, waiting for a counter attack. I was hoping that once I caught Gillian someone from the field would counter and I would be ready to jump on their wheel. No such luck. The group came together and stayed together. For the rest of the race there was no promising break away. Each sprint the whole field would accelerate and I would get swallowed up in the bunch, unsure of what to do and unable to jump with the gear I’d chosen.
I finished the race in a less than spectacular fashion and did not make the qualification. Disappointed, I packed up my gear and headed out on a road ride. Five hours I thrashed my bike up the steepest climbs I could find in the Santa Monica mountains. I was pissed at myself and was basically having a big kid temper tantrum on the side of a really big hill. Finally I was so tired and in so much pain that I stopped being angry. 
At this point I was about 5km away from the top of Piuma Road climb and so I had no choice but to grunt, pant and suffer my way to the crest. I took my favorite descent, Tuna Canyon, back down to the bottom and had another hour of riding along the beach to reflect on the day’s events. What had I learned?
- Choose a smaller gear for bunch races so that I can react faster and more explosively.
- Abandon the moves that don’t work rather than towing the whole pack around. Just pull off and try again later.
- Be active, not reactive. Instead of waiting for someone to attack, attack myself like I would in a road race or crit.
The rest of the weekend I spent taking a break from the track to enjoy some prime road miles. I love the mountains and spent hours each day climbing the lonely, winding roads cutting through them. Now it’s back to the track to try again. One more week in beautiful SoCal before I head to Florida to start part two of this epic trip.
Do One Thing a Day that Scares You
Posted on November 8, 2013 8 Comments
Only two weeks ago I arrived back in Victoria after spending 14 days training in California. While it was nice to sleep in my own bed, see my friends and snuggle my demon cat, it took about three days before the excitement of being home had worn off and I was itching to get on the road again. The Victoria rain had settled in for the winter, business at the shop had slowed down, and I had ridden the same training route for the bazillionth time. After seven months of racing and travelling, I was feeling grumpy and wound up, trapped in the monotony of “normal life”. Every mature and responsible fiber of my body was telling me to grow up, go to work, make some money, do the 9-5 thing like a normal person. I mean, technically I’m an adult, which I’m told means I am supposed to be a financially responsible, independent, contributing member of society. A few more days of making coffees and sweeping floors and I was ready to explode. Time to go! So I sat down with Peter and came up with a loose three month plan. Then I booked a one way ticket to California. Time to grab life by the horns and just go for it!
Time to go Home, Eh?
Posted on October 26, 2013 Leave a Comment
After two weeks in sunny California it’s all over and it’s time to leave ‘Murica and fly back home to Canada. The training here has been incredibly challenging and (aside from a few well-earned rest days) I was physically and mentally stretched to the breaking point every day. Cycling Canada gave me an amazing opportunity by inviting me to L.A. to train with Craig, and I was not about to waste a second of that opportunity by giving it anything less than 100% every moment that I was on that bike. I hung on every word Craig said; every lap around the track focusing on putting those words into action. Two weeks to learn everything I could. 14 days to learn what most people learned over years. I look back now at the video from day one on the track and smile at how far we have come in just 14 days.
Looking back at day one on the track I need to commend Craig for not changing his mind and putting my butt on the first flight back home. Total rookie! First I was completely reliant on the mechanic to set up my bike as I hadn’t figured out how all the bits on a track bike worked yet. The one time on the first day that I did do my
![IMG_20131025_095835[1]](https://anikatodd.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/img_20131025_0958351.jpg)
own wrenching I promptly pulled my wheel coming out of the start gate, barely managing to stop myself from flying over the handlebars and kissing the hardwood as the bike came to a screeching halt. I was totally relieved not to have gone @$$ over tea kettle only to realize that, without forward motion, my bike was falling over and my scumbag brain had chosen that moment to forget how to unclip. Yup, day one and Craig is running up the track to catch me because I forgot how pedals work. Think that’s bad? Well, this all happened not just in front of the national coach and my new team mates, but also in front of the entire Canadian Olympic pursuit team. How’s that for first impressions?
Things weren’t much better moving on to exercise number two: team pursuit. Seems pretty simple, right? Four women ride in a circle, person on the front pulls off at the end of the lap and slots themselves into the back of the line. Really no different from a pace line in a group ride or a race and I’ve done that a few times before. Hahaha….right! Step one: roll up to the rail, roll off the rail on start. Step one: epic fail. I rolled up to the rail going WAAAAAY to fast, promptly missed my target, bashed off the side boards, somehow stayed upright, and had to do a lap of shame then take another go at it. Oh, and did I mention that the elite women were still in the bleachers watching? No pressure! Take two I managed (although not very gracefully) to come to a stop at the appropriate place but my pedals were in the wrong spot. Craig looked at me and asked if I was going to start like that. All I could think was “pretty pretty please do NOT ask me to do one of those little bunny hop things to bring my cranks into the right position. It will NOT be pretty”. The horror must have shown on my face because he walked up to me, picked me and my back wheel up off the ground and spun it into the right spot. Alright, ego sufficiently bruised and moving right along to step three: go. Countdown…3….2…..1…..go! And FAIL. Between the angle of the track and trying to start from a standstill with only one hand on the bars (the other had a death grip on the rail) my brain was already overloaded and I promptly forgot how to ride in a straight line. Becuase of the horrible trajectory of my start, I just barely narrowly missed running over Dan who was holding my team mate a few steps further down track and spent the first half lap chasing after the rest of the team. The following 15 laps weren’t much prettier. I had no sense of how the bike handled so I spent most of the time accelerating to catch back onto the back of the group and then frantically back pedaling to stop from running over the group, only to havev to start chasing back on all over again.
The view from the rail
Yoyo all the way! The exchanges were also terrifying and terrible. Pictures and videos do not do the track justice. It is way way WAY steeper and higher than it looks on TV. Flying to the top of the corner and then nosediving back down onto the tail end of your team is way scarier than it looks!
With all this new stuff going on I was a little bit preoccupied trying not to DIE and so I finished my spectacular first performance on the track off by forgetting how to count and doing an extra lap. Pretty horrible but Craig was super positive and patient.
Last exercise: Individual pursuit. Now surely this would be a bit easier; I could do this! Ride 12 laps solo. No exchanges, no drafting, no rolling off the rail. Just ride in a circle really fast by yourself until the bell rings. Got it! …..not. I started off super fast, feeling strong, and then promptly realized that a track bike was far less forgiving than a TT bike. My legs started to tingle a bit but I couldn’t ease off for a couple seconds like I would on my TT bike because the fixed gear was driving my legs onward. Moments later my legs were on fire and I still had six laps to go. This was going to hurt. My 12 laps included the fastest and the slowest splits out of the whole group. I did what the rowers call a “fly-and-die” and I definitely “died”. By the time the bell rang my legs felt like they’d been through a meat grinder and weighed about a thousand pounds each. Lesson learned about pacing myself!
So this was my starting point. On the bright side there was no way it was going to get any worse.
What did two weeks of intense training do? Well, yesterday was “test day”; the grand finale! Sink or swim. Two hours of timed, video taped track time. First up: team pursuit. We rolled out smoothly, got in line (only one back pedal needed!) and started counting down the laps. It was amazing how different it felt. Smooth and controlled and FAST! My turn at the front came, I pulled my lap then swung smoothly up into the corner, pivoted, and flew down onto the back of the group. Just like that, like I’d been doing it forever. It was incredible how different we felt and looked. And now that my mind wasn’t quite so overwhelmed I had a few brain cells left over for things like counting so on the last lap I didn’t forget to swing up and the whole team came flying across the line as one. AWESOME!
Last day!!
Next up was individual pursuits. I spun out the burn in my legs from the team pursuit and got myself psyched up for my next task with some rockin’ beats. 3…2….1….Go! Steady, smooth, fast (but not too fast!). My first few laps were just a touch slower than a week earlier but my legs weren’t giving out. Instead of fading they were feeling stronger. The laps counted down until the board showed 6 to go. Time to ramp it up. This time I had something left, I wasn’t dying quite yet, and so my splits started coming down and down and down. One lap to go and I was just going through my last reserves. Perfect!
Third test: standing starts. I attacked the gate maybe a touch early but didn’t throw away time hesitating at the start like I had at the beginning of the camp. I used my weight to throw the bike forward and thought of the analogy that Candice had given for standing starts: like a monkey humping a football. Monkey grip on the bars then use your hips to drive the bike, engaging all your glutes, hamstrings, quads and calves to power yourself up to speed.
Done =D
Last test: flying 200m. With the first three tests done I was feeling calm and ready. I took my windup laps then flew down the opening straight, hitting the black just as I came into corner one. While it wasn’t sprinter quality, I was pretty happy with my line and time. All in all test day was a good day!
With the testing over it was time to pack our bags, say goodbye to America and head home to Canada. I celebrated with my first ever Krispy Kreme donut, one last cultural experience because….’Murica! It was DELICIOUS! Good thing they’re not available in Canada, I don’t think my will power would be strong enough!
What am I doing back in Canada? Back on the bike, back on the track! While I have learned so much, I still have a long way to go before I’m ready to roll with the big dogs. I would also like to wish the elite team (Gillian, Laura, Jasmin, Steph and Allison) the best of luck at the Manchester World Cup coming up. They`ve been working really hard and I`m sure they`re going to kill it!
Goodbye California! Keep it rocking 🙂
California Dreaming
Posted on October 21, 2013 Leave a Comment
As I sat on the plane California bound I was filled with excitement. I felt alive and free; the world full of adventure and opportunity. How lucky am I that this is my life? I am literally living the dream! Travelling the world meeting the coolest people, racing my bike and training hard. Waking up every day with that dream of wearing a maple leaf jersey in Rio just a little bit closer than the day before. Peter and Kurt had set me up with an army of support: doctors, physio, strength trainers, mental performance coaches, nutritionists, and pretty much anything else I needed. My body felt like a well oiled machine; strong and getting stronger every day. My mind was sharp, focused and in the game. I might have been nervous the night before but now that the journey had started I was feeling nothing but ready.
A couple hours later the plane touched down in LAX. This was actually happening. There I was in freaking CALIFORNIA getting picked up by the national coach to go train on the L.A. Olympic track. OH. MY. GOD!!! Seriously?!?! I couldn’t wait to get on the track but I would have to be patient until the next day. The first day was to get settled, meet the room mates, have a team meeting and go over the training plan. It was like being a kid on Christmas Eve. Yeah, Christmas Eve is fun and all but what you really want is for morning to just hurry up and come already so that you can run downstairs to the magic sparkle of Christmas morning. Just one night’s sleep until I set foot and tire on 250m of smooth hardwood rich with Olympic history and filled with hope and opportunity.
As is the case anytime you’re excited about anything, time slows down, the day drags on and morning takes forever to come. One by one my team mates arrived: Kirsti the speed skater, Audrey the Quebec provincial and National junior champion, Candice the national sprint champion, and Sara the power house starter disguised as a museum curator.
Once again I was the rookie in the group but I was getting used to that; actually learning how to thrive in sink-or-swim, way-outside-your- comfort-zone kinda situations. A few months ago I would have been intimidated by my present company, but now I felt confident, trusting that Craig and Peter knew what they were doing by sending me there, and eager to learn from my new team mates; to work with them. Once the last of the team and staff had arrived we headed to dinner where Craig walked us through the battle plan and introduced us to Roger Friesen. Roger would be working with the team leading up to Rio 2016 as a mental performance coach. It was super cool to see this kind of holistic and cooperative approach to training and competing, and it made me even more eager to get started. Finally it was time to go to bed and, not surprisingly, I spent most of the night tossing and turning, waaaaaaay too excited to actually go to sleep.
Stepping into the VELO Sports Center the next day was breath taking. I couldn’t believe I was there. Today would be my 8th or so time riding a track bike……ever. Well, here it goes: all in, balls out, sink or swim. The mechanic, Dan, had our bikes ready and before I knew it we were down on the track, flying through our planned training session under Craig’s scrutinizing watch. Mentally, I was stretched to the max. Everything was going Mach1 and there was a bazillion things running through my mind. Physically, I was hanging in there but the other women were definitely giving me a run for my money. Mistakes were expensive. Getting dropped from the group, riding an inefficient line, missing an exchange and a plethora of other rookie mistakes cost my legs dearly and it wasn’t long before my thighs were burning in protest. I couldn’t get by on raw power because in this group everyone was that strong. You HAD to get the technical side down or it jut wouldn’t work. Three hours later we were done our track training and I was exhausted. We had just enough time to shower and eat before it was time to get back in the saddle for an afternoon road ride. At the end of the day I barely managed to shower and get my compression tights on before collapsing into my bed and falling into such a deep sleep it may have been a 13 hour coma. I don’t think I moved all night because I woke up the next morning in exactly the same position I had gone to sleep in and was so stiff and sore I barely managed to hobble to the coffee cart down the hall.
The training did not let up and my battered legs soon gave up protesting, clearly no one was listening to them anyways. The angry waves of lactate that had burned through my body on the first day were replaced by the dull but persistent ache of fatigue. This was definitely a whole new level of training: 3-4 hours on the track followed my 90min to 2 hours of road riding. It was hard but I was loving it. Every day I can feel myself getting stronger, more determined to train harder, push the envelope further. The miles I was putting in were slowly being mapped out in the ever growing road map of veins spreading across my body. Each blue line the hard earned proof of hours in the saddle. The physical gains I have made in the last week are nothing compared to the mental gains. In just a week I have gone from standing in the pit at Burnaby with no idea what I was doing and trembling with nerves, to confidently flying around the track solo, behind the motorbike, with the team or any combination of the above. Every day I was riding a little bit smoother, a little bit closer, a little bit more aggressively. I still cannot believe how lucky I am to get to train with Craig and this team for two weeks shadowing the Canadian team that won Bronze in London 2012. They all have so much experience and knowledge to share! And they have all been super patient with me as I learn the ropes of the track.
While the track has been exhilarating and challenging, the road riding in L.A. has been full of magic in its own way. One of the first rides we did, Jasmin lead us on an “easy” 2 hour endurance ride through Santa Monica. Well, “easy” turned out to be 506m of elevation gain over 5km. No wonder the other women on the elite team were snickering when Jasmin told them the route she was taking us. However, once I had settled into the pain and my eyes came uncrossed again I looked to the my right to see some of the most spectacular scenery I had ever seen. The sweat was pouring down my body, my teeth were tingling and my lungs were on fire but if I was gonna put myself into the hurt locker this was probably one of the most beautiful climbs in the world to do it on. 
The sky was crystal blue contrasted against the mountains, and a full moon had made an early appearance competing for our attention with the perfect pink sun disappearing into the deep blue ocean spanning the horizon.
It had been another beautiful day in California but the next day’s road ride was even more spectacular. All 10 of us headed out to the Santa Monica mountains in full Canada kit. It was a pretty cool site to see that many of us riding along and we elicited several cheers, honks and snapshots from the people we road by. We started into the mountains on a long downhill. Yup, that’s right, downhill. Looking around at the peaks on all sides I was pretty sure that down was not the direction I wanted to be going for, in bike riding and racing, what goes down must come back up. A right hand turn and there was our up…..and up……and up……
That’s when my bike started making a clicking noise that did not sound good at all. My derailleur had gotten misaligned and was hitting the spokes of my back wheel in the higher cogs. Perfect! Who needs their easy gears in the mountains? 
So I downshifted on the back until the clicking stopped. Once, twice, three time…..four times……finally it stopped. Except that I was now in a cog so small I couldn’t sit anymore. So I sucked it up and stood. No way was I going to quit and get in the van over something as silly as gears. 900m elevation gain over 25km to the highest point in the Santa Monica mountains all standing. Yeah, that one hurt.
What awaited us at the top was worth doing that climb a thousand times: Tuna Canyon Road. This is a descent on a one way street that is so crazy, so dope, so incredibly awesome that it’s even been the site of a Red Bull Road Rage competition. I can’t wait to go back and do it all over again!
Now, while the vast majority of our time has been consumed with training, this trip also marks the first time I have spent any appreciable amount of time in the United States of America so there’s been a few firsts aside from riding a track. I have now eaten at Chipotles and yes, it is definitely as good as everyone says. I can’t believe it hasn’t caught on in Canada! Also, I am seriously loving the fact that in this fine country they pumpkin spice ALL THE THINGS!!! Lattes, loaf, cookies, icing, philly cream cheese, sprinkles, coffee creamer, yogurt, clif bars etc etc etc. It’s pumpkin spice overload! Amazing! Everything really is super sized and super cheap.
Toaster pastries have their own section in the grocery store, that’s how many poptart flavors there are here. There’s a bazillion flavors of fat free greek yogurt. DELICIOUS!!! Liquor goes on half price clearance sales. People call you “Ma’am” and comment on your Canadian accent. Drivers are super respectful of cyclists….only happy honks have been heard. Totally awesome! All in all I am kinda really loving it here! Next on the “to do” list? Krispy Kreme donuts, another first for me, cause I am in ‘Murica!!
Popping my Track Cherry
Posted on October 21, 2013 Leave a Comment
When my coach told me he wanted me to get on the track my first thought was “thank you sweet baby Jesus, finally something easy”. After all, how hard could it be to ride a bike with no gears and no brakes around a smooth wooden circle? After getting thrown in the deep end of road racing and clawing my way up a learning curve so steep it didn’t even seem possible, track would surely be easy in comparison. Yeah, wrong again!
My first experience on riding the track was in July when I participated in a “Learn to Ride” clinic at the Westshore Velodrome coached by Kurt Innes and a sequel coached by Malcolm Faulkner. Then, after a grand total of 3 days on the track with Kurt and Malcolm, the world of road racing pulled me away from the track and I did not set foot on the velodrome again until the morning of the GVVC Track Fest a few weeks later.
I would be racing on a borrowed Marioni that proved to be pretty fast. The thousands of miles I had put in on my road bike were coming in handy and, in a small local field, I was able to use that endurance and power to make up for my complete lack of technical skills. I ended up winning the pursuit, time trial, points and scratch race to take the omnium victory. The 200m sprint was embarrassingly bad but I had never worked on sprints, let alone track sprints, so I wasn’t too upset about that. 
The elimination race I also finished a spectacular last place as I apparently do not know how to count. All in all it was a successful weekend and a good start to track racing. Little did I know how different a “real” track would feel compared to the forgiving, shallow banks of the 333m Westshore Velodrome.
The feel of a real track would not remain unknown to me for long. Only a few weeks later the national track endurance coach, Craig Griffen, called me to ask if I would be interested in attending a training camp in Los Angeles in October. Hmmmm……Option A) spend October riding mostly alone, probably in the rain, mostly in the dark, and probably suffering through some Eastern European inspired torture set (Peter calls it “MAP training” for “maximum aerobic power” or whatever but I’m onto him: it’s cruel and unusual punishment disguised as a training plan) or Option B) pack up my bags, hop on a plane and chase the sunshine to southern California to train on an Olympic velodrome alongside Canada’s best athletes under the direction of one of the world’s best coaches. Yeah, tough choice! I barely contained the urge to shriek like a school girl as I eagerly accepted Craig’s offer. The rest of the day I walked around with the biggest, silliest grin on my face: I was going to California! Woot Woot!!
Now in the excitement of the moment I had not put any thought into the logistics of this trip. The next morning I woke up and my first thought was “oh crap, what have I done?!?!”. Minor freak out, a big cup of coffee, another minor freak out and I was ready to tackle the daunting list of “to do’s”:
- Do not get fired for being the worst employee ever. You will starve to death.
- Make sure Boston is fed twice a day or she will destroy everything you own as revenge
- Find a track bike. There’s hardly any point in going to a track camp without a track bike.
- Learn how to ride said track bike on a real velodrome so that I don’t kill myself or worse, one of my team mates, on day one. That would not be a good first impression.
- Figure out how to get myself and an obscene amount of luggage to L.A.
The first two issues were quickly taken care of thanks to the amazing people in my life. After speaking to Craig I worked up the nerve to go talk to Billy and Scotty, two of the owners of Trek, and ask them if I could have another almost three weeks off even though I had only just gotten back from a month of racing Europe. Without batting an eye they told me that of course I could go; that they were proud of me and supported my racing. Not only did they say yes to letting me go, they were super stoked and everyone pitched in to help me get set up the best I could for the track. I seriously could not do what I do without the amazing Trek family behind me. Every big step in my career as a cyclist has been intimately tied to their continued generosity and support. Bob and Cindy Powell immediately offered to take care of Boston so that too was no longer a concern.
Issue number 3: finding a track bike. Seems simple, right? Open up a catalog, pick a bike, receive it from the Fed-Ex truck 10 days later. Yeah, not with track bikes. Human organs would be easier to buy than a 47-50cm track bike. Scotty tried his best but could not find a track bike my size (and he’s the order guru, he can literally get ANYTHING). Lucky for me I have Anthony from CBT in my corner. I told him my problem and just over a week later a brand new track frame arrived all the way from Taiwan.
It was beautiful and I couldn’t wait to ride it. CBT had also sent a track crank set, wheels, tires and a track chain in a previous box of goodies. Scott had managed to rush in Dura-ace cogs and the additional chain rings I needed. Everything was falling into place! Just in time too, it was Friday and I was leaving on Wednesday the following week. Spenc graciously agreed to, once again, stay after work to help me with yet another bike. The track whip was just minutes away from being ready and I could barely contain my excitement. Of course nothing can run that smoothly, there needs to be some kind of bump in the road just to keep life interesting. Sure enough Spenc let out a chuckle and turned around to look at me. Crap. I peered over his should to see what the problem was and my heart sank. Crap. The frame and crank would not not work together. The geometry of the frame was such that the crank could not clear the chainstay. Crap. My options were pretty limited: find another frame or find another crank and rings. Crap. Well, it was almost 7pm on Friday night and there was nothing I could do about it right now so we cracked some beers and had a laugh at my dilemma. It would be pretty hard to ride fast if I could only turn the crank a quarter of the way around without hitting the frame. The next day I sent out a desperate email to anyone and everyone I knew that might have a track bike even close to my size. Then I waited. And waited. Had another minor freak out and waited some more. Sure enough someone came through: Minda Richardson. 
I was so relieved I didn’t even know what to say to her so I just gave her a big hug and thanked her a bazillion times. It was so incredibly generous of her to let me use her bike for almost three weeks and without her generosity I don’t think I would have found something in time. This time our other mechanic, Cameron, offered up his time and with Minda’s frame, CBT’s components and wheels, and Cam’s mechanic-ing a track bike was soon born. I was ready!
Well, “ready” in the sense that I had the equipment. I still needed to learn how to actually use it. I got in touch with Kelyn Akuna was warmly welcomed into the Burnaby Velodrome community. The plan was to head to Vancouver on Wednesday so that I would have three days to train on the track there before flying to L.A. for the camp on Saturday. Being the hobo that I am I was once again solely reliant on others to get me there so quite a few thank yous are due here. First, thank you Mark Milburn for loaning me your receptionist and truck to get me and my impressive amount of luggage to the ferry. Big thanks to Franz Obermeier for driving me all over hell’s half acre to run last minute errands before dropping me off just in the nick of time to catch the 3pm ferry. Waiting in Tsawwassen was my good friend Rob Hargrove. Aside from picking me up, Rob also let me crash at his condo, borrow his car, use his laundry machine and eat his food…..like I said, I’m a bit of a hobo. Hopefully the fudge brownies and Rumble I brought him made up for it a little bit. We battled through Vancouver traffic, made a critical Starbucks refuel stop (PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE ❤ ), and arrived at the velodrome just in time for the high performance training session with Kelyn. Originally I had thought that I would just jump into the training session and figure out the track in the process. Well, I thought wrong. Holy $h!t!!! The first time you stand at the bottom of a 200m velodrome you can’t helped but be shocked at just how high and steep those corners really are. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of riding a bike through those corners. It didn’t even seem possible. Surely gravity would win in a spectacular fashion and I would leave my spandex and my butt skin on the hardwood in a bone shattering and theatrical series of bike cartwheels from the rail to the apron. Nope, nope, nope…..bring me crits and descents and thunderstorms and cobble stones. None of that was nearly as scary as the wall in front of me.
Then I remembered California and the dream of representing Canada in Rio and I told myself to get a grip already. This was no different from the way I had felt the first time I raced a road bike, the first time I descended a mountain, the first time I rode in a pro field. More importantly I was about to spend two weeks training with the best. This was definitely not the last time my limits were going to be stretched to the breaking point. Time to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. Time to HTFU and just do it. 
However, I am super duper grateful to Kelyn for giving me the track to myself in between the group intervals so that I could “just do it” by myself. It made it just a little bit less terrifying. The first time I rolled up on the track I could feel my heart pounding, hear the blood rushing in my ears. Kelyn yelled to speed it up, reminding me of the minimum rolling speed required to actually stay butter side up. I took a deep breath and dove in. Lap after lap I hammered around the track, terrified to ease off of the throttle. Sure enough I stayed upright….well, sort of….as upright as one can be in a corner that’s as severely banked as a 200m velodrome. With every passing lap I felt more confident, more comfortable. When Kelyn gestured for me to come back down so the group could go again I rolled into the pit and laughed with relief. My hands trembled from the adrenaline and I felt like I was on fire with life and enthusiasm and opportunity. I could do this! This was going to be AWESOME!
The Burnaby Velodrome Assocation’s hospitality did not end that night. They made every effort to accommodate me so that I would have the best opportunity to train and prepare for California. They especially helped me out by making all the track access free, which really helps when I’m living on an athlete’s salary. Galen Kehler opened the track for me on Thursday so that I could try out my pursuit set up. After a 90min training session he showed me the bike shop he works at, Secret Cycles, where I was warmly welcomed by all the staff. They set me up with the tools I needed to complete my tool bag and wished me luck on my trip. Seriously a dope shop so check it out if you’re ever in the area!
Friday morning my Island track homies, Nic Hamilton and Mark Milburn, picked me up and we headed back out to the velodrome for my third day of track training. Finally feeling comfortable this was the first day that I got an actual workout in. 
Mark treated us to a spectacular send off dinner at Italian Kitchen after which the three of us waddled our food babies through Gastown before surfing yet more couches in a beautiful Gastown apartment. I had to share my arm chair with Heli, who takes up a seriously impressive amount of space for such a small dog, but it was nice to have the warm ball of fur snuggled into my chest. It was the night before I was leaving and I couldn’t help but be just a little bit nervous.
ANIKA (the beast) TODD 