So it began with an early AM drive up to Big Bear for the US Cup 50 mile MTB race. I wasn't sure how this would go since I hadn't done a whole lot of specific training for it. Still, I felt like I could turn in a decent result.Early on, as in the first mile, I knew things were not good. My legs felt tired and out of sync, my back hurt and my glute was on fire. After living at sea level for just over a year and racing at 7,000 ft. I was introduced to what altitude really feels like. It hurts by the way. None of this points to a strong race day, and I suffered big time. I'm not used to being reduced to just thinking about finishing, but that's what it came down to. Surprisingly, I found motivation in that and enjoyed the new challenge I had set for myself.
But all the motivation in the world couldn't prevent me from cramping. From knee to inner thigh, both legs were seizing in a way I've never felt. It wasn't enough to keep me from pedaling, and it did subside at times, but added to my misery. While I didn't come around physically, mentally I put out a good effort and finished satisfied. More often than not in this situation I would be disappointed and focus on how bad I raced. However, this time I was able to focus on what I did well and how I had done the best with what I had for the day. The result sheet wasn't what I wanted, but I was still happy. After countless endurance events I'm still learning and improving!
Right about that time I saw a fin pop up about 50 yards ahead of me. A dolphin was headed straight towards me. Instantly my thoughts turned to how amazing it was to be in the waters with such a graceful animal. I couldn't help but think of the sharp contrast. Here were 100 humans, the supposed pinnacle of evolution, bobbing around on boards while this animal displayed a grace and form that we will never know. The next swell nearly knocked me off my board, so I focused back on my own task, though I relaxed a bit and smiled more.
With my shoulders ablaze I kept at the best I could, trying to find a rhythm. It never came, but I had fun, especially catching a small wave on the way in. In the end I wasn't last, but close to it, and I didn't really care. Tacos and a beer with Courtney afterwards was better than any podium, so I still won in the end.
The last race had me back at Big Bear for another 50 mile MTB race. This time it was the State Champs so the competition was on. After another early morning drive to Big Bear I sufficiently caffeinated myself with coffee and chocolate covered espresso beans, warmed up and hit the start line ready to roll hard.
Unlike my last attempt I was feeling good from the gun. Not so good that I tried to keep up with any pros, but I was in the lead group as we climbed the fire road. Some sandy singletrack offered tight turns, blind corners, rocks and arm-cutting fauna. I let faster, more skilled riders get by, knowing it's easier to follow someone than to lead. The only problem was that I soon lost my guide and was back to my own fumbling. The singletrack opened up to a fire road, but strewn with rocks and ruts, it was no simple descent. I skittered down, getting passed along the way by some riders I had left behind on the way up. Even when the rocks and ruts gave way to sand I felt I was losing time. Frustration set in as I struggled through the sandy corners. Each corner was a new event, with me taking bad lines and grabbing way too much brake. I don't mind slow technical riding, but I get a bit too freaked out when the speeds get higher. To add to my troubles, I encountered a few Jeep and FJ Cruisers coming up the road. Most were on their side of the road, but a few were dangerously to their left. Sketchy.
Finally we were back climbing up, and I was back in my zone. The pedals were turning well and then we hit more singletrack.
This section was fun, if being scared you might fall off a cliff is fun. The trail cut into the mountain so on your left was the side of the mountain and on the right was nothing. Take a bad line, bars clip the side, get bounced off line and you were headed for a steep drop. To add to this there were more than a few tight left turns that threatened to topple me over the side. There were more than a few occasions where I wanted to walk, but momentum and guys right behind me forced me to keep rolling. There was one occasion where I had to get off. When I see CAUTION signs I know that is meant for me. Walking the trail I had to pick my bike up and hold it over the abyss to my right. It wasn't all terrifying though, there were several swoopy sections on flat terrain as well. I let two riders go by me, both much faster descenders and one was the woman who would go on to win. She was a true daredevil and a great rider to follow.
The single track gave way to a paved road before the final aid station. I refueled for what I knew was to be the hardest part of the course, the climb up Radford Rd. It was only a fire road, but nearly five and half miles of eight to ten percent grade with no let up, no shade and nowhere to hide meant we would all suffer. This was the hardest five miles I've ever ridden. From the start I was in the granny gear; if I went slower I would literally stop and fall over. I kept looking at my legs and visualizing them turning over, a kind of instant mental messaging. While I still felt relatively OK,(no cramps or major bonks) it was the sheer unyielding grade that ground us down. I saw riders ahead of me walking. Part of me took that as a sign to let myself walk, the other said "no way". I willed myself from turn to turn, dangling each as a carrot to get to. Ultimately I made it up without having to walk, something I will always be proud of.
At the top of Radford was one last aid station so I topped off with water and set out for the final miles. At this point I thought we had about seven or eight miles to go. I took off down the fire road, relishing the descent. I passed a bystander who yelled the phrase I never believe when I hear, "It's all downhill from here!" I've heard that before and always refuse to believe it. We turned down some singletrack that was part of the previous race and that's when it hit me. Cramps. As in both legs, quads and hamstrings. Pedaling was OK, but because the trail was steep, dusty and narrow pedaling wasn't exactly easy. When I stood on the pedals both legs would seize and when I went to pedal again they protested mightily. I continued this awkward chain down the trail, switching between the difficulty of pedaling through technical sections and the pain of having my legs cramp. I soon realized that I only had a mile or so to go. Looking at my GPS watch it read 42 miles. I kept bombing down and crossed the line with it reading 43 miles. Initially I thought I had missed a section or cut the course accidentally, but the riders that were behind me on Radford also trickled in. It turns out the course was short "a few" miles and was measured at 44 miles. How can you cut 6 miles from the course and call it good?
But I wasn't in any mood to complain, I was spent.
I ended up placing 2nd in the 30-39 Cat 1 category and 2nd overall for the amateurs, a result that surprised me and redeemed my poor showing weeks earlier. I was too spent to enjoy the post-race tacos and instead had 3 Cokes and a fruit smoothie.
Thankfully there are no races on the schedule for a few weeks and I won't be roped into anything. The legs are shot, but the mind is more so. Each effort takes a serious ability to simply suffer, and to do that requires more brain power than physical power in most cases. I'm in need of a mental recharge so it's R&R for me.
