Flight or Fight

"The fight-or-flight response, also called the fright, fight or flight response, hyperarousal or the acute stress response, was first described by Walter Cannon in 1915.[1][2] His theory states that animals react to threats with a general discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, priming the animal for fighting or fleeing. This response was later recognized as the first stage of a general adaptation syndrome that regulates stress responses among vertebrates and other organisms."
-Wikipedia

(photo taken from Roehampton University's site)

Why the interest in flight or fight? Lately races have really been stressing me out, and Cale sent me an article about how time off during the winter is key to de-stressing from cyclocross the fall previous to the racing year: read it here. Here's a quote from it that grabbed me:

"How could cross lead to burnout? Every time you go to a race or do an anaerobic workout there is a certain amount of physical and psychological stress created. This stress causes the body’s many systems to work overtime, especially the endocrine and sympathetic nervous systems which prepare the body for fight or flight.

Together they get the body ready to face an artificial “crisis” such as a race or hard workout. These systems can handle only so many crises in a short period of time before they are exhausted. Some liken this to having just a few “matches” to burn in a season. Once they are all used up with races and very hard workouts extensive rest is needed to create more matches."

So enough quotes. How does this pertain to me? (And more importantly, what excuses can I derive for myself from it?) I've been getting really stressed out for races, even when I know it doesn't matter how I do or what happens in them. It seems to happen no matter what I do, and leave me feeling pretty helpless to control my emotions. There are two instances that come to mind, which are races I have not blogged about. They're not my most shining moments.

A) For the Whitnal Park race (a few weeks ago), I couldn't eat much the night before, and the morning of, I couldn't eat anything. My mouth was SUPER dry, but when I tried drinking some Accelerade it nearly made me toss my cookies. I ate one Gu packet over the course of about a minute, feeling nauseous the entire time. I dragged my sorry self to the race, wanting nothing more than to go home and forget about it. Right before the race, I went in the bathrooms and cried (What is this, senior prom?), so badly did I not want to be there. Long story short, I picked myself up and got to the start line. During the race I was having trouble with my shifting, which was making me furious. I wasn't feeling good and was angry about that, too. With only five more laps to go (over half way through) I quit. I was toward the front of the pack, not feeling it, and decided to just quit. I held up my hand, let the pack go around me, picked up my race gear where I had left it and left the race without staying to watch who won it. It felt so good to have quit, and so good to be able to cut the stress and just leave.

So for this story, we see me miserable and wanting to flee, or furiously mad and cussing loudly (oh yes) at things that make me angry.

On another note, I had planned to do five Superweek races. This was the second. I was a bit of a mess for the first one at Cedarburg (it wasn't as bad as Whitnal Park, though) but I was planning on just barreling through them all. I thought that if I did a bunch of them, they would have to get easier and less stressful. Racers who have been at it for years get over it, right? I thought I just needed some practice. Whitnal convinced me to just leave it be, though. I didn't want to see what a third race would bring.)

B) Two weeks ago, there was a Keirin at the track. A Keirin race is one led by a... pace scooter, would you say? Kenosha's got a beautiful one, and these races are few and far between, so it's exciting when they come around. That and this was the first women's Keirin all year. It's very rare that anyone but the Cat 1-2-3 men get a crack at it. Add to that a big purse, and I was excited for it.

I drew the 5th position and we all lined up. I had a really good holder that was ready to give me a good push at the start. At the start, however, the woman in sixth position, shall we call her Imelda March, cut down in front of everyone for the spot she wanted. Everyone teetered and tried not to crash into her and each other, because we had all been catapulted by our holders right into her path. (You can tell this made me angry, because two weeks later I'm still calling her out rather than being a bigger person). So I was stuck between two people until the girl on top started drifting down, forcing me to fall back. I wound up in the last position, which is a terrible position, obviously. Two laps to go, I tried to get up and around people, but everyone had that idea and soon I had about six people wide that I had to try to get around on the corners. I wound up getting second to last, and on the cool down lap I was seething. As I was slowing, I was literally snarling. My teeth were barred. I wanted to throw and kick things, but managed to contain it to a pouty helmet throw on a chair.

This race I would definitely chalk up to a 'fight' reaction. I'm not trying to excuse my behavior, because it certainly was bad. And I could have acted better. But usually I'm not so aggressive, and it's troubling. It's like PMS (sorry fellas). The feelings feel real, but the reasons for the reaction just aren't there.

So now it's time to look up stress busters. I feel strange doing so, because my life is going pretty darn smoothly. I don't have many worries outside of races, so it seems like I should be able to recover from those stresses. The other puzzling thing is that I used to do every sport when I was a kid (up through high school)- swimming, flag football, volleyball, track, softball, basketball, cross country. That's a lot of races and meets right there. Sure I would get nervous, but it never bothered me this much.

For whatever reason, though, the race stress seems to be building up. Each race is worse than the last. Not being able to eat, an incredibly dry mouth, wanting to cry (?!). I've talked about it to a few people, and they say "Relax, it's not a big race anyway. It doesn't matter." It's frustrating because I know it doesn't matter how I do, and I'm ok with however I finish. There's an excuse for everything, right? ;) But I can't 'just relax'. Trust me, I would if I could.

The plan for now is to not race until cyclocross season. I'll keep doing the 12 hr races, because they don't turn me into a nervous wreck, but everything else is out. No more track (Thank goodness. I never liked you (the racing, not the people) anyway!) or even fun races. The team is going to try to put on some unofficial CX races for training this fall on Wednesdays, and I'm going to abstain. I'll go to them and practice barriers (a goal this season) on the side, but I won't race.

It feels good to have that much of a plan, but I need to work on a plan for de-stressing, lest I wind up snapping and streaking around screaming on some hapless CX course. It could happen. In fact, it's so likely, I think I'll start worrying about it now. *stress*stress*stress*

Tuesday Night Fright

Track Tuesday started out the regular way. I felt nervous, didn't want to race and was lethargic and whining a lot. My knee had a bit of a sharp pain under the kneecap while walking, but on the bike it felt fine, so I grudgingly signed up to race. The night's races played to my strengths: there was a Danish an a Miss-n-out.

In a Danish, the first person to cross the finish line on the first lap gets first and stops racing. The first person to cross the line on the second lap gets second and stops racing, and so on. During the Danish, there would be little time for tactics and the strongest/fastest person would have the upper hand.

In a Miss-n-out, the last person to cross the line each lap gets pulled from the race, until there are only three left. Then a neutral lap is (usually) called, and then the three sprint one lap for the first three places. During the Miss-n-out, you've got to have a good position, and it's a fast race. It's dangerous to draft too much, because you can get stuck being the last person to cross the line. If you stay in, you have to be able to keep up a good pace for a long while.

First up was the Danish. I wasn't feeling good, and every time I burped I tasted pepperjack cheese from my lunchtime sandwich. Yech. I felt a little weak with nerves, but during the neutral lap, I came around and was ready for the jump when the whistle blew to start the race. I got out ahead of everyone and hovered above the sprinter's lane before dropping into it in the first turn. I was going hard, but saving a little. After the second turn I watched the shadows- as I expected I saw the girls shifting up the track, moving to try to pass me on my right. I turned up the speed a little bit, accelerating through turns three and four, and then let loose in the homestretch. I was seated and concentrating on smooth and powerful. (I think I need to strengthen my core to help me out with a smoother stroke. It couldn't hurt, anyhow.) Either that or my gearing is a little high, but I think I would spin out with less. But anyhow, the girls were right behind me through most of the lap, but my teammates told me that I started to pull away from them on the homestretch. Win #1 of the night- would I be able to pull off the second race?

So I was off to a good start. I was feeling better and more confident, which is pretty important to me. I wish it wasn't as important, but, as evidenced in the SS State Championship race, having my head in the right place is so key. I get discouraged way too easily, and my performance suffers!

I had a while 'til my next race and was watching a Cat 3 race while sitting and relaxing, when all of a sudden things went wrong. The field was like 6 across, with the guys at the top of the track being maybe two yards behind the guy at the bottom. I think the guy on the bottom in the sprinter's lane moved up for someone else to take the lead. He moved up maybe a foot above the red line (sprinter's line?) and as he was going up everyone got compressed. There was yelling from the top to get down on the track. I saw everyone getting impossibly scrunched and they couldn't slow down fast enough at the top. It was clear someone was going to get pinched. When they did go into the fence at the top of the track, they went down immediately and it was like a cartoon fight where there's just a cloud of dust and an arm here and there. It was a wad of shiny bike parts flashing as they flipped and the two riders going every which way. When it was over Ed (White of Half Acre Cycling) lay face down on the track and Perkins (Jeff Perkins of Chicago's Cuttin' Crew) picked himself up and went over to check on Ed and immediately yelled for an ambulance, then ran down the bank of the track (the crash happened just coming out of turn two), slipping on his cleats.

Everyone was silent. I saw Ed lying facedown, so still, and started crying. Now, I don't really know Ed. He takes awesome track photos that he lets people use and I've talked to him only once. From what I've seen, he's a really nice guy. That doesn't really warrant sobbing over the man, and I'm not trying to bring more drama to the situation, but it was terrible to see someone in that position. The ambulance came and got him, and then Perkins, who reportedly had some scrapes and a pretty swollen looking hand. If you want to know about Ed, he'll tell you himself: http://flickr.com/photos/ewwhite/2672933019/

From what I've heard (gossipgossip!) they're both out of the hospital and doing well, thank God. But this blog is not about gossip, it's about ME, right?

Racing resumed as soon as the blood had been washed off of the track and the water had dried. By my second race, the Miss-n-out, things seemed almost back to normal. The announcer said "We're going to be going all the way down on the women," meaning there would be no neutral lap before the sprint at the end. However, it could also be taken sexually, right? I mean, just saying.

So during the neutral lap at the beginning, the announcer kept commentating and said "Katy Steudel of Team Pegasus smoked the field during the last race," and the girls behind me laughed and shouted "Did you hear that? You smoked us!" and I, not knowing how to respond to that, said "Did you hear what he said at the beginning about going all the way down on the women?" Bless their pure hearts, they said "Yeah, there's not going to be any neutral lap". I said "Yeah, I understand that, but it could also be taken sexually... you know..." and they were like, "Oh. Right. Guess our minds aren't in the gutter!" I mumbled something lamely about how hanging out with the guys on the team was wearing off on me, and then luckily the race was upon us.

I see these girls I race against as equals, and so I forgot that our ages aren't equal. Later I realized I was talking to a bunch of girls- one just got her driver's license, one's 12 and another is just starting to apply to colleges. The situation was funny, but I felt just a little inappropriate.

Back to the Miss-n-out: it was going fine until I rubbed tires with one of the other girls. I had an inch of overlap on her rear wheel when she started to come up track to let someone else lead. Visions of a crash flew through my mind as we kept rubbing wheels. After a second, I realized we weren't in a tangled heap on the track, and worked on getting disengaged. It was like in mountain biking when you see an obstacle you don't want to hit: if you focus on it too long, you'll start heading toward it. We stayed engaged because I was focusing on it, but when I shook it out of my head, I was able to move away from her and get steady again. But sweet Jesus, was I ever scared. I've never had a bad brush like that. Luckily (kind of) I was paralyzed and she kept her cool- there was no jerking and it was handled smoothly.

After that, I kept racing but had forgotten to keep from being the last one. I spooked when another girl's handlebars came close to mine, and I got stuck in a bad position for that lap and got taken out at third. When I came off the track, I was upset. The crash from before, the scare from my race and then, when I was coming off the track, the frustration at myself for losing my head and losing the race. I would have had a good chance if I wouldn't have gotten spooked.

I decided to skip the last race because I was afraid I'd be a danger to others. In closing, it was sure a hell of a night. I'd like to wish Perkins and Ed a speedy, speedy recovery. Ed's practically a Kenosha staple, and we don't get to see the Cuttin' Crew very often- I hope this hasn't scared them off. I'd like to say more than that, but that's about all there is to say. Please know there are a lot of people sincerely rooting for a quick and thorough recovery.