The Immovable Butt

Kevin and I signed up for an Xterra triathlon which will be in August. It will be the first off-road tri for both of us. As usual, Kevin is confident about our new adventure. "It's just a sprint." he says. I'm not worried about finishing it--just a bit concerned about how technical the bike course is going to be. While I'm proficient at staying rubber side down/shiny side up on technical mountain bike trails, I ride conservatively and slowly. I've never raced on a mountain bike and am unsure of my ability to stay upright and push myself to go fast. I can see myself being too stubborn to unclip during a climb because I want a good bike split then a log, a tangle of roots, rocks + me in Zone 5b = my mountain bike acting as logging equipment. My solution: I would do a cyclocross dismount and carry the bike up the climbs. Yeah, yeah...that's the ticket. Then Kevin reminded me of just how much that bike weighs. He said,"The next Strongman contest is going to have an event where Magnus VerMagnusen will have to lift your mountain bike over his head." *Big sigh*

So to help alleviate my concerns, we took an hour to ride our local mountain bike trails on Sunday. The goal was to ride continuously for at least an hour. The magnificent blue skies and sunshine almost made me forget that I hadn't been on my mountain bike (her name is Mandy) since November. Mandy is the only female bike I own--the rest of the fleet are boys. So I sensed that she's been pissed off at me for ignoring her all winter and spring to ride the road bike (Mr. Klein) and the tri bike (Dave--as in Zabriskie). I had a feeling she was planning an endo for me.

Once on the dirt, any bad feelings that Mandy had for me were gone. Her back wheel slid out on a couple of steep turns, but I mostly blame myself for riding on her rear brakes too much. First ride of the season skittishness.

One of the first things I noticed about my riding as a result of long hours on the tri bike was my utterly immovable butt. Riding a tri bike is all about planting your booty in the seat and riding in a straight line while moving only your legs. This riding style does NOT sit well on trails (bad pun, I know). Mountain biking is all about moving your weight around on the bike to negotiate around and over obstacles. I took the first few descending hairpin turns with my paralyzed ass firmly glued to my seat. I used my upper body to wrestle the bike through the turns--WWF meets mtb. Not pretty.

By the middle of the ride, Mandy and I stopped wrestling and started working together. The riding was sheer joy. The descents seemed less formidable, the logs not so high. My 27 watt increase in FTP since last year helped me clean alot of climbs that last year I would struggled to get half way up then have to unclip. I turned onto a trail that was a winding, long, steady climb that ended with the steepest section and a log to hop. I set my intention to stay clipped in no matter what--even if I bounced off that damned log and rolled down the hill attached to my 200 lb bike. The balancing act was keeping some weight on the rear wheel to keep it from spinning out while leaning forward and putting weight on the front wheel to keep it from lifting up off the dirt. All I could hear was my heart pounding behind my eardrums. At the top, I held onto a tree to stay upright, panting and drooling like an overheated dog. I couldn't have been more happy.

So the love affair has been rekindled between Mandy and my slightly more mobile behind. Looks like it's gonna be more than just a summer fling!