OK . . . I'm just going to come out with it. I want to podium at Hillsboro. And I'd REALLY like to win.

I'm going to have to start talking strategy with Jeanette.

Just finished weights with my trainer, Dan. He's pretty awesome. It was fun . . . but now I'd really like a nap. Unfortunately, I'm at work.

Got my new training block from my coach. We're ramping it up a bit. Which is sort of a relief -- I want to be ready for camp and then for the start of the season. And while theoretically I have any number of things to do other than ride my bike, the bike is my priority right now.

The team ride today was aggressively unpleasant. It wasn't the cold, it was the snow. It was the muddy, salty slush in the roads. The first hour was OK, but as I got progressively wetter and muddier the ride got progressively less fun. It was cold enough to freeze the water in our bottles, so I couldn't rinse the salt out of my mouth. And cold enough that being soaked was a problem. I gladly took my turn at the front to get my heart rate up and get warm. Yes, that IS mud on my teeth and salt caked around my nose.

Took me an hour to clean my bike. I would guess the three other brave fools on the ride spent just as much time cleaning theirs.

The weather will have to dramatically improve for me to go on the women's ride tomorrow.

Gigi and I were talking about our goals for the season the other night, and they are similar --- we are both looking to cat up, we're both looking to place well and win. We have different emphasis --- she on track, me on road, both on crits --- but otherwise we're really in synch.

I listen to her talk about it and I feel like it's totally doable. I have confidence that she will podium and accumulate the points to cat up. Her drive and determination are palpable.

So why do I feel so insecure about meeting my own goals? I work hard and am very motivated. Why do I have such a hard time believing in my own abilities?

But I won't let my internal debate stop me from attacking the pack at Hillsboro. I would really like to get in a strong breakaway. Ideally with Jeanette, but one or two racers from other teams could work out too. If I get my climbing legs at camp, this could work out well for me. And if it doesn't, well, ATTEMPTING it is valuable in itself.

Last evening was the women's squad's monthly social. We met at Hopleaf for dinner, snacks and beer. Well, some of us had beer. Some of us stuck assiduously to our diets and commiserated about always being hungry. But it's paying off -- we'll be ready for camp.

A lot of our new members came and it was fun to get to know each other better. There's a lot of enthusiasm right now and I'm excited to see that applied to racing. Who will be super strong? Who will be a natural sprinter? Who will get dropped over and over but keep coming back for more?

Also fun to talk about camp. A bunch of women are coming this year. Egg salad.

----

I wonder if I've had so many colds this past year because ALL of my current officemates have young children who go to daycare. Maybe they're carrying viruses into the office, way more viruses than when none of us had tots. I'm consistent about washing my hands thoroughly and using hand sanitizer throughout the day, but I have never had so many colds in a 12 month period [Seven? Eight?]. And this is the only thing I can think of that's changed.

Since becoming an athlete -- which coincided with the baby boom -- my health has gotten more delicate. Which seems counterintuitive. I'm to the point where the slightest hint of impending illness will send me running for the zinc lozenges and to an early bed time.

My rest week is over and I have to say I'm excited to get back to regular training. I do appreciate the break, but I wouldn't be a bike racer if I didn't love it.

Man, it's so freakin' cold outside. I walked 4 blocks yesterday as the sun went down and just about died. A gentle breeze came up and immediately gave me an ice cream headache . . . that progressed into a throat-tearing, skull splitting, finger-freezing, face-dissolving death march. And I was wearing many layers of wool and down. It's just crazy cold. I saw two brave souls out there on bikes and they did not look happy in any way.

Got some new tattoos yesterday. As they are places where I can see them, I think of them as tattoos for me. I'm not sure who I got the back piece for. My massage guy, maybe. Other than Jackie, no one ever sees it. I sorta got the ice cream cones for racing -- think they'll distract my opponents? I actually forget that I have tattoos a lot of the time. When it gets warm out and I wear a tank top for the first time in 7 months . . . I wonder why everyone is giving me these LOOKS.

It's -7 degrees out there --- and that's ambient air temperature, the wind chill is something like -25. Needless to say, I rode my bike indoors this morning. I spent two hours on the trainer watching "Missing" with Sissy Spacek and Jack Lemon on cable. Good movie that I'd probably have never watched otherwise. Made the time go faster. Tomorrow I only have one hour --- last day of my rest week. If I have to be indoors, at least I don't have to grind out 3 hours a day. Hopefully it'll be warm enough to ride outdoors next weekend.

My weight loss is going well. I'm down 7 pounds since New Years and feeling really healthy and energetic. I'm on track to be at or close to my race weight by camp. And I always end up losing a couple pounds at camp. Its hard to eat as much as you burn riding 5 or 6 hours a day, keeping up with the fast guys as long as possible. I can't wait for camp! I dreamt about it the other morning: we'd just finished a long ride and I was lying on my back with my legs up on the porch furniture with a bunch of the guys, waiting for recovery sandwiches. It was warm in the sun, but with a slight chill in the air --- low 60s, maybe. I was wearing my xXx winter kit knickers and confirming with the sandwich maker that I did indeed need a vegan sandwich. Hummus was involved. Then our coach came and sat down with us and we passed him the pretzels and he started talking about the ride . . . I rarely remember my dreams, but this one was excellent.