THIS PAST WEEKEND my lottery ticket entry into 2020's Unbound 100 mile event was cashed in 2021.

I am sad to report I did not make the checkpoint cutoff time on the 100 mile Unbound course in order to continue on.  My 54.8 miles took me over 5.5 hours to complete.  Race started at 7am, cut off was 12:30pm with cut off departure at 1pm.  I didn't get there till after 1pm.

The Unbound finish line in Emporia, Ks is in itself one of the reasons I love this specific race. There is something about that final stretch that is rewarding and makes the miles worth it.  I sit here feeling disappointed and incomplete for not having that experience this year.  To the point it is like I wasn't even there.  I came home without a finishers cup or sticker.  I just have a dirty bike, a sunburn, crap to put away and sore lady parts.

MY RIDE: The first 33 miles was fast (for me).  It was tough but I felt good.  I had plenty of time to get the next 21 miles to reach the checkpoint with time to spare.  Then mile 38 came.  I had a known bike issue looked at prior to the event but not the time to get it repaired.  When shifting from low to high gear in front, I had to make sure I was in the lower 4 gears in back to shift to front big ring or it would push the chain off and onto my right peddle.  Beginning at mile 38 I had this happen twice at bad times causing me to lose a good roll up the next hill.  I'd have to stop, put the chain back on, then muscle up the incline from a dead stop.

With 15 miles to go, I found I was out of water.  I had a chance to snag some a couple miles prior but thought I still had a full bottle under my seat only to realize when I went for it, the bottle was empty.  I had already swapped it out.  No water made it difficult to want to eat my dry bars which in turn made it difficult to climb.  Shade was scarce during whole course, so the sun was taking its toll on me as well.  Slowly the cutoff time cushion evaporated.

I realized I was not going to make it with 8-9 miles to go.

I was pissed. I let myself down. I walked 3, maybe 4 hills in those last miles, I don't remember as I was cussing under my breath and holding back tears because it didn't matter anymore.  I was done after I reached CG. Fifty four point eight (54.8) miles for nothing is all I was thinking then.  Honestly, I still feel that way a bit now.  Trying not to dwell.  But my personal competitive seed is going nuts over this failed finish.

MY POSITIVE TAKE: Aside from the shortcoming at Unbound 2021, I still rode 54.8 miles on THE most technical gravel I have ever ridden/seen.  I can't believe this was the exact same 100 mile route I had ridden and completed  in the same event in 2019 (Back then it was known as the DK).  But as anyone knows, gravel roads never stay the same. My 2015 Bombpop Blue Fargo and I climbed and descended some pretty sketchy shit. Grated roads, washed outs, new sharp gravel chunks, even some thick pebble like stuff (what I call Nebraska gravel) several sections were so "new" the only line to ride was a 6 inch wide rut on the far left or right of the gravel road.  These are things normally freak me out, but I rode successfully that day.  I was so glad I had recently put new Teravail Sparwood tires on the week before as my previous tires would have been toast under these road conditions. . . even tubeless. 

Also, this was the first time I brought kids to a race I was riding.  The kids got to see me start a race and sorta end a race.  It was cool to see them all in the bright pink Pink Gravel event tees with the Pink Gravel flag waving tall.  My crew was waiting with hugs, smiles AND water.  There were five in our group that Pink Gravel supported that day for the 100 mile course.  At the checkpoint, I was rejoined by another from our group.  Due to lack of room in the Pink Gravel SAG van, she and I grabbed a cooler of water and beer and sat under a tree to watch the 200 mile riders blast through as we waited for our ride to return from dropping the crew off back in Emporia.  It took my mind off of what I was missing in downtown Emporia at least for awhile.

Once I got back to the camper, my daughters left, my husband returned from his finish, we ate dinner and were asleep by 8:30pm.  I was too tired to venture back downtown.  Though, I admit, I regret not making more of an effort to go.  I guess I also got caught up in my personal disappointment.  

Prior to June 5, 2021, I had decided this was going to be my last 100 mile race.  It would have been my 3rd attempted and third finish for 100 miles.  I was gonna stick with shorter distances for good.   

Well. . .  I just can't let it end like this.  I now have unfinished Unbound business.

Gonna play that Unbound Lottery one more time.  


Ps.  I want to thank my friends, Mark and Renee, for allowing Pink Gravel to be apart of their expo tent on Friday.  I am honored that they invite Pink Gravel to be apart of the Pony Express Gravel Dash held in September by being SAG hosts.  This will be the 8th year for the event.  Find a registration link to their event on the "FIND US HERE" tab.

What began in October 2019 was completed one year ago on May 4, 2020.   

That period of time involved mammogram, sonogram, a biopsy, cancer confirmation, waiting on BRCA results, another mammogram, waiting on MammaPrint results, surgery, waiting to heal, surgery - port placement, waiting to heal, 3 months with chemo, Covid-19 restrictions, radiation everyday for 4 weeks, grow some hair out to finally have the port removed this past February of 2021.   Whew, say that with one breath! 

I don't think of myself as a "tough person".  I really don't like pain.  My parents will tell you I can be stubborn which I suppose could be interpreted as tough.   But deep inside lies an overactive mind full of what if "insert worse case scenario here".  I have always been like that; just maybe not as vocal about my "worst case scenario" thoughts as I am now.   So if I am being honest with myself, I am very surprised I didn't get sucked into a depression during my cancer experience.  I had moments of course, but nothing that lasted over 24 hrs.  Friends, family and maybe even you have expressed to me how strong I have been and inspiring.  Which is somewhat uncomfortable for me to hear as I wasn't going for that necessarily.  I just wanted to get through it for my family, friends, myself and survive.  But the support received from sharing this experience enabled me to dig deeper and avoid dwelling on those "what if" thoughts.  I was able to continue forward and spot the positive, laugh at my predicament, and find the energy to keep going with a smile - most of the time *wink*.  With the support, I knew I was going to be ok.

Today, it seems fitting that upon this anniversary, I find myself needing to dig deep yet again to contain post cancer anxiety sprinkled with panic attacks that appeared out of no where.  I don't know what caused it to appear now . . . the cancer experience, the year 2020,  or the vaccine shot or maybe I was just predestined to go thru this at 46 yrs old.  

Just another one of life's challenges that requires a bigger shovel.   #positivevibing 

 At the inaugural Flint Hills Gravel Ride out of Americus, Ks, that is where!

NOTES AND TIPS:

1. DO NOT SCHEDULE A J&J COVID VACCINE SHOT the Wednesday afternoon of a Saturday morning gravel event. After spending all day Thursday in bed with headache, achy joints, fatigue, fever, chills and zero appetite, a Saturday morning ride like this is too soon. Friday I still had headache, little appetite, slight nausea but functionable. By Saturday, I had a slight headache that FINALY responded to Tylenol and was eating carefully as to not upset stomach. SO yeah, I had a moment about 7-8 miles in I got lightheaded, blurry vision, lungs hurt, chest tight, nervous I was gonna pass out or have a heart attack. Maybe it was Jon's magic hugs, but after several minutes, I finally got to a point I was able to ride...at least get to checkpoint and then decide to press on.

2. DON'T TAKE COMMENTS FROM THE COURSE CREW AS CHALLANGES. I rolled up to a turn with people off their bikes looking down a stretch. While I saw a line I could ride, it was pretty muddy. But should I? Maybe just walk it all...till someone says, "With those tires you may make it if you navigate correctly". Challenge accepted. I went maybe 150 yards when I thought I was a few feet from what was solid and no. Back wheel locked in mud. Had to scrape just to get it to turn for walking as it was too heavy to carry now.

3. THE HAPPY GEAR IS KEY TO ANY FINISH. Something Jon told me about way back. Just find the happy gear in the situation you are in and go with it. Even if it is at a crawl, I will find a happy gear to get thru wind, a long climb, or long straight. Happy gear may be fast in one section and slow later.

4. THE FLINT HILLS NATURE TRAIL IS GREAT FOR BIKE RIDES. The stretch we rode into the checkpoint was a joy after what we had just been thru with the wind. Reminds me how I need to take advantage of the FHNT more often.

5. ANY ROUTE CREATED BY ANYONE NAMED BOBBY, WILL 90% OF THE TIME HAVE A HIKE A BIKE SECTION OF SOME SORT. While we were told there would not be more than a mile (at a time) of muddy roads, there are still muddy roads/sections. Being I did the 34miler, we really only saw 1 mile of actual hike a bike and then a 10 to 20yd spots of mud not too terrible to ride thru. I hear the 80milers had a bit more.

5. THE WIND IS ALWAYS BLOWING THE WRONG WAY. Wind will suck the life out of you when riding toward it; try to steer you off your line when blowing crossways; and create your personal sauna when at your back. Sure you can ride faster with it at tor back, but if the sun is out, you will cook while doing it. . . So best just not have 15 to 20 mph winds. 2 to 4 mph would do.

6. THE FINISH IS NEVER DISAPPOINTING. It does not matter what kind of finish line is set up. . .just finishing an event is a personal achievement and feels good. I have only quit once and if I had only finished, I'd had placed. I just need better skills to get my shit together on my own so as to not worry Jon or slow down someone else's progress. (OR maybe not get a damn vaccine known to make you ill 48 hours before a ride.)
​
Anyway, it was really good to be back among my gravel peeps for my first in person gravel event of the year! Nice to have a new awesome event so close to home too.
#pinkgravel
#windsucksandblows
#flinthillsgravelride
#bikegoodr

So, just before Easter, I received a message from a Pink Gravel follower.   She informed me that she is a "late-to-the-party" cyclist, but loves road and gravel.  It was because of her love for her gravel community, she found Pink Gravel.  I am going to refer to her endearingly as Mrs. LTTP (Late-to-the-party).  For the record I am 46, so I think I fit into that category too. 

In Mrs. LTTP's message, she informed me that she has just begun her journey with breast cancer and is hoping she will be able to approach it with the same humor and grace that I displayed.  Mrs. LTTP was still in the discovery phase and just starting to have the hard conversations with family members about her diagnosis.  Mrs. LTTP thanked me for being here.  Her words warmed my heart.

It is odd how I now feel an instant connection to other breast cancer warriors.  You hear the jokes; but seriously, It is a club.  The club dues are freak'n high; but if have been diagnosed and are willing to look for us "cancer club members", you will open the door to a whole new world of instant friends.  It is a bit amazing considering the cost.  

And that is where Pink Gravel comes in.  I believe a HUGE part of my coping with cancer was through sharing.  Of course I could talk to anyone and/or post it all on FB but I also wanted to respect the fact not everyone is interested or maybe they have their own stuff going on.  I suppose traditional support groups would have fill this space. 

But guess what?  COVID is what. 

The one group I could find in my area that meets once a month, was not meeting.  But, you know who was?  Gravel cyclists.  Now, granted, I wasn't riding because of being physically drained from cancer treatments, but I was able to fill a water bottle, hand out some snacks and hold a bike while a rider pees in the trees.   So I pushed out Pink Gravel to the public and began a new cancer support group of one.  Since then I have been looking for others to join me and join in my support of others.

I want to thank all of you out there who take the time to read the blogs, who support Pink Gravel by liking the social media pages, who share this website, who wear or display Pink Gravel swag, who attend our events and those who welcome or advertise Pink Gravel at your events.  It is SO APPRECIATED!   It was because of you that Pink Gravel was on a Girls Gone Gravel Podcast!  How cool is that?!?!

So please know your actions help others, help people like me - like Mrs. LTTP - find some additional support within the gravel community that they may not have in their local area.

And you know. . . It's a gravel club within the cancer club. 
I would even say it is a cooler club -  because you don't have to get cancer to be in it. :)  #pinkgravel  #cancersucks  

Today was "port cath removal day".  On Feb. 20, 2020, almost 1 year to the day that it had been installed.

It is hard to believe it has been a year and oh, what a fun a year it was (that is sarcasm).   

I have heard from other cancer survivors it can be an emotional event and that held true for me.  A significant piece of my cancer journey was on its way out.   The port cath installation signified the beginning of treatments; today's procedure signifies the end.  I do have a maintenance  pill to take daily for several years but the hardest part of that is to not drop it in the sink or floor.

I stated often to family prior to today how the surgeon had to put me under to install the port cath; but, to remove it, I am awake and just laying there in chair.  The thought of being awake totally wigs me out.  I kept envisioning him pulling a slippery worm out of the dirt only the worm was the port & dirt was my skin. 

Needless to say, it wasn't like that at all - not even a slippery slithery noise was heard as it was pulled out.  I was fully numb and really did not feel much other than a little tug.  The procedure took a full 30 minutes.  I learned today the worry I carried the past year about it moving around was all for naught; as now I find out it was stitched into position.   I was vocal about being scared and I kept waiting for that moment "it hurt".  It never happened but then I had my mom holding my hand.  Yes, yes.  I am 46 years old and still need my Mom.   She is a survivor and a pretty tough woman so I knew she could get me through this.  And . . . my Mom gets a kick out of medical procedures.  So to watch one up close and personal was my gift to her.   Not sure the surgeon appreciated how intently she watched but it did assured for a nice stitch up job.  LMAO

Going in, I had intended to take my port cath home with me.  I mean, I did pay for it.  I was going to put it in a jar and maybe break it out at Halloween parties. 

But I didn't.   Just shed a few more tears, I took a deep breath, collected my thoughts and left.

Bye little guy.  Thanks for job you played in saving my life.