My mountain bike
and I have been getting more closely acquainted lately, and I think I can say
that we are becoming friends in a way we never were before. This morning, as my bike slipped sideways in
some sand on a steep-ish downhill, I thought to myself, my bike really wants to
stay upright, I just have to get out of the way of my bike’s heart-desire. Oh yes, a mountain bike deserves
anthropomorphization. I’m not 100% sure
where my Rocky Mountain Oxygen’s heart is, but I know it’s there, even when I’m
crashing sideways, adding to the colour-burst of bruises across my bum.
My renewed
interest was partly fueled by knowing I was headed to Leadville, CO, to support
my brother in the Leadville
100 Mountain Bike Race this past Saturday, and by riding with him in the
week leading up to the race. I suppose I
should clarify that me riding with my brother is really more me straggling some
great distance behind, sometimes on my bike and sometimes off my bike, while he
gets lovely rests to enjoy the scenery, the dense mountains, the high altitude
meadows and, most special to the area we were riding, the Aspen forests, the
trees’ brilliant white trunks, so straight and narrow, creating a dappled,
dream-world maze. Oh the places we can
go…
Let me pause here
for a short shout out to one of the women of RLAG—Rebecca Rusch—who rode phenomenally well
in the Leadville race and flew over the finish line in a course record time for
women (beating her own course record by more than 4 minutes). I snapped the pic above of her as she was making
final preparations for the race start.
Watching Rebecca,
my brother, oh and also Nicole
DeBoom, the founder of Skirt
Sports’ husband, Tim, and all the other superb riders was inspiration, but
not, it turns out, quite enough to quell my fear. The day following the race I woke up early,
revved up by my spectation (I know—neologism, because it’s just the right word)
the day before. I decided to ride some
trails I’d already ridden on our CO sojourn, eager to see how I would do the
second time out on them. Well…the up was
all well and good, but on the second part of the down all my newfound
enthusiasm went on strike. A trail I had
ridden without much trouble two days earlier loomed up ahead of me in the most
terrifying manner. What had seemed
straightforward 48 hours before became squirrely and scary.
Now, I knew, knew,
knew that I could ride the trail much better than I was. Yet I could not. I knew, knew, knew that the fear was in my
head and if I could just let it dissipate, then all would be well. Easier said than done. In the end, I settled on being fascinated by
the power of my mind to obstruct. Back
here in Truckee, CA, on the more familiar trails I ride, I’ve been noticing
more sharply where I’m letting things get easier and where I’m still blocking
myself. Because it is amazing how one
day, two big fat rocks seem too close together to ride between, and the next
day the gap has widened to a comfortable, slip-through space.
Isn’t that just
the way of all things in life? The
biggest obstruction to anything I want to do (you want to do) is fear.
Which brings me
around to the Spartan Race—one of the
premier obstacle course race series (similar to the Tough Mudder—which
I wrote about a few months ago). I
recently spoke to a couple of organizers involved with the race and three of
the top women participants in the race series.
The race tag line, “You’ll know at the finish line,” succinctly captures
the spirit of a race that presents different challenges every time. Obstacles are kept secret from racers until
they are in the midst of the course. So
although veterans can guess at what they may face, the precise blend of
obstacles and order will never be certain.
The race aims to make the racer a better person when they cross the
finish line—by facing their fears and overcoming the obstacles thrown at them;
which brings the Spartan race goal back around to my earlier observations about
mountain biking as life.
The Spartan has a
special focus on increasing women’s participation—hurrah! They call it the Spartan Chick’d program and
it includes a closed network on Facebook with more than 5000 women. The program is working. Whereas a typical road race might have as
many as 60% women, in 2011 the Spartan racers were only 25% women. In 2012, thanks to their concerted effort to
encourage women to give it a go, the race has closer to 35% women now. And true to their goal, Spartan’s women are
changing. Here’s what I learned from
three of the top-placing women.
Margaret
Schlachter has always had sports in her life, but for her the Spartan
experience “helps unlock an extra piece of ourselves.” In her case that’s meant that a month before
her 29th birthday, she quit her day job working in Admissions and
College Placement, as well as coaching a few sports at Killington Mountain
School, and is devoting herself full time to the risky proposition of depending
on race sponsors, writing her blog Dirt in
Your Skirt, and helping other women get active through her coaching
programs.
For Andi Jory
Hardy, the Spartan race tipped the scales at a turning point in her life. Summer 2011, her marriage was in trouble,
the private school she had started was struggling financially, as so many new
ventures, and she had to close her dream down.
And 16 knee surgeries had scared her into a sedentary lifestyle. But enough was enough for Andi, she decided
it was time to eat healthier and get some exercise and after doing triathlon in
October, she signed up for a “little” mud run.
Famous last words. She hasn’t
looked back. So far her knees are
holding up, but, as Andi says, she never knows when her racing days could be
over. In the meantime, she’s in the best
shape of her life at 43; she’s inspiring women of all ages at the races she
participates in, and the racing has given her renewed energy for her teaching
job with special needs children. The
kids love learning about her training and applying the same principles in their
own goals of conquering reading and other scary subjects. That feeling of being up against wall in her
life is gone. Andi is happy.
Ella Kociuba aspires to
be the “face of” Spartan racing.
Although only 18 years old, she’s had way more than her share of
obstacles, and that’s before she got hooked on Spartans. When she was 13 years old, a horseback riding
accident, aggravated significantly by a birth defect in which her spine was not
connected to her sacrum, resulted in a broken back. Four metal rods and screws, and a year and a
half later, Ella was back on her feet and running, even if it was painful;
okay, very painful. For someone with
every reason to blame the physical for any setbacks, Ella still firmly believes
that the first thing to break down is the mind and for her the racing is an
opportunity to touch her limits, something she finds “very intriguing;” fostering
a toughness that will, no doubt, come in handy as life unfolds.
Whether it’s
mountain biking, or the Spartan, or something else that tweaks your fear
factor, take a moment to notice the way your mind can seize up, cramped with
fear, or, alternatively, open up the space between two rocks, so that you have
just enough room to pass through on the way to your future.
