There is a category in Mountain Biking which trumps all others. One particular lady in this category, stands out. She passed me the season before in Salmon Arm's Salty Dog race.
We both raced solo, around and around for six plus hours. She waited until the fourth lap before sneaking up from behind to attack. When she did, I had an excuse ready. “Well, she obviously doesn’t have any kids,” I mumbled to myself happily and then kept rotating my pedals behind her. I thought about her when I was at the start line of 2017’s Salty Dog. I didn’t see her until she passed me during the third of the 10 kilometre laps. I grumbled to myself, “Crazy-super-woman.” I had since made up numerous of secret identities for her after finding out last year that not only does she have one child, she has four!! OH, COME ON NOW! Damn those yummy mommy’s! Once again, I couldn’t keep up to her. I had to pee. Like desperate-I should have peed a lap and a half ago-pee. But it wasn’t part of my race plan. I didn’t plan to pee until lap four. “You are just going to have to wait,” I told my bladder and ignored it for the better part of the next hour. Bad idea. I developed the worst stomach cramps that I have ever experienced. They gnawed at me like someone (probably crazy-super-woman) took a wrench and reefed in back and forth in my abdomen. I was on the uphill of the open road, which if you have the where with all to have a look around, the view shows a spectacular lake in the distance held within the arms of bright green rolling mountains. The road goes on forever and ever and its all you can do but pretend your on the yellow brick road and you’ll be screaming home sweet home on the down hills soon enough. I stood up to release the pain in my stomach. I sat taller and breathed deep breaths and started a mantra consisting of “breathe into the belly, relax, relax.” My bladder had not forgotten its most dire concern and after 25 minutes of mantra, yelled back at me, “squat already!” And so I did. One mm off the trail behind a one inch tree. “Are you alright?” A rider yelled at me in passing. “All good!” “You sure you’re okay!” said the one behind, unfortunately for him slowing down to nearly a stop. “I just had to pee. I couldn’t wait any longer,” I explained. I’m sure I was crimson red but I hadn’t wanted to waist a single precious race minute finding a better spot. “You get it out girl!” he laughed.