my life is my message.: XTERRA (Part II)

Bang!

Swim

Using adrenaline as a weapon this time, I clawed my way through the pack of swimmers to the right side where I could indulge in some open water. I hugged the inner line of the swim course, sometimes even being nudged by the volunteers on kayaks to not venture inside the triangle. I used the kayaks as my guide to know how straight/crooked I was swimming. Usually I try to spot the buoy or some other landmark, but for this race the sun was directly in my eyes as it peeked its head over the eastern horizon. This made the kayaks a good alternative to know my lines.

It wasn't long before I got into a rhythm, something that never took place in my Yuba swim. It felt great to just swim and not be kicked in the face. I got out to the first buoy, turned, and had a long stretch to the second one. The water temperature was perfect, crisp and refreshing (I prefer swimming in lake water to pool water). The sky was a gorgeous blue and it was a beautiful day for triathlon. There are a lot of techniques and quirky tricks to remaining calm during the open water swim. A lot of people suffer panic attacks and end up wasting a lot of energy, breath, and time trying to recover. Not being able to see the bottom of the murky lake beneath you, swimming in chilly waters, not having anything to hold onto if you need to rest (except the kayaks for worst case scenarios); these factors all lead to a rather stressful situation if you don't know how to handle it. I had researched some tips such as shaking your hands when they're in the air between strokes, smiling, telling yourself audibly that you can do it, etc. I decided to implement a couple of these into my swim. They really helped me keep my cool. Sidenote: When I was born, my heart stopped for a while. I was an emergency C-section and apparently it was a pretty stressful time for everyone in the room. My mom tells me that while she was so patiently bringing me into this world the song "Don't Worry, Be Happy" blared on the radio. Despite wanting to reach through the loudspeakers and strangle the Rastafarian singing the tune because of his deliberate insensitivity to her current predicament, she took in the message.

I thought of this as I pulled and kicked through the water; don't worry. Be happy. I reminded myself that I was accomplishing a goal, that I was doing something I loved, that I was doing something that was good for my soul. I also remembered that I was swimming in the same race as incredible professional athletes! What a great opportunity! I made it around the third buoy and was on the homestretch. I could see the beach to my side and knew I was approaching the boat ramp. I started to swim faster. I even was breathing every three strokes instead of every other stroke. I finally felt my fingers scratch concrete and realized I was done with the swim...and I felt great! I had plenty of energy and was making good time! It's amazing what you can do even if you've failed at it your first try.

I took off running up the boat ramp, saw my dad, heard his "go Ryyyyy" that is like a shot of energy for me, and started transitioning to the bike.

after the race, I randomly found this picture (taken by a stranger) and realized I was in it! Crazy haha

Mountain Bike

Usually I feel very confident on the bike. The best part of the race for me is realizing that I'm done swimming and it's time to cruise on my bicycle. Now, make it a mountain bike and multiply that feeling by 1000. I love mountain biking. I've done a lot of racing, but have never swam right before, nor ran right after. I hopped on my Specialized Epic and took off down the narrow track, winding around the different curves and eventually up to the canyon road. I was familiar with the bike course, having watched the entire 2011 Championship race on youtube, so as I was trying to get some momentum and pass as many people as I could while on the road, I took a moment to think, "I'm racing on the exact same course Lance Armstrong raced last year!" It was a fun thought and helped me appreciate what I was doing even more. Cars were lined up across the dam, waiting for us to pass and head into the canyon trail. I'm not going to lie, I kind of felt like a rock star as we flew past the cars and heard them cheering and honking.

Off the road and onto the dirt. Here we go, it's time to climb! Like I said in the previous post, this race was unique in that it wasn't a loop. You didn't ride up really high and then come back down to finish. You rode up really high and then kept riding high to finish. There was literally no downhill. That wouldn't come until the second half of the run.

It began with a killer climb; it was long, crowded, and gradually steeper. I had never experienced climbing in a race with such a dense group of racers. I am used to fast single-track racing. I tried to weave my way in and out of other bikers while keeping a steady and strong rhythm in my legs. I don't have a lot of strengths but I do pride myself in being a strong climber on a mountain bike. I might get passed on downhill switchbacks or in long stretches, but I usually am able to pass people on the uphills. I took advantage of this during XTERRA.

The course was arduous and required as much patience as it did leg strength. I tried to stay consistent and never lose my pace. I couldn't believe how gorgeous and stunning all the different colored leaves were as we tore through the woods of Snowbasin. I had a couple bogies on my tail but was able to stay in front of them the whole time. There is a fun sense of comradery in mountain biking. We were all yee-haw-ing and cheering just because we were having so much fun. Sounds cheesy, but it really is just an enlivening sport. It wakes you up and opens your eyes to the joys of the mixture of nature and sport. Of the people I passed on the bike were some that caught my eye and gained my endless respect. A woman with only one leg, a blind man (he had a guide riding behind him, telling him when to turn), and 75 yr. old. If these guys can compete in such a strenuous race, how lame are the excuses I make for myself?

I came out of the main section and was nearing the finish of the bike course. I pushed hard up the last big incline and then flew down to the base of Snowbasin Resort. I heard the cowbells and cheers and it gave me an added boost. I had one more person in front of me so I dug deep and passed them right before the transition area. I hadn't seen anyone from my category so at this point I was thinking, "I think I'm in 1st place in my age group!" I kicked off the bike and transitioned to the run.

Trail Run

Oh the trail run. Let me take a minute to rename this the Death March. I was feeling fantastic off the bike...I had just ridden one of the fastest and most flawless races of my life (maybe I should swim right before every mountain bike race from now on). I thought I'd tackle the trail run.

I had been running 10k trail runs up Provo canyon in my training and had become pretty confident in my endurance on uneven-terrain running. I burst out of the transition area and made my first turn to start up the first hill. I didn't realize the first hill was a 60 degree incline that stretched for a mile. By now the sun was out and it was getting hot. I started to huff and puff up the hill, trying to maintain a good pace, but it didn't last long. I looked up ahead of me and saw scores of other runners wearily walking up the hill. It reminded me of a scene you might see in a movie depicting slaves in ancient Egypt. In these moments I think, "why the #(*$%_( are we doing this to ourselves?!"

The run seemed to never go flat. It was either steep uphill or steep downhill. If you're a runner you know how awful that is. Eventually I heard a guy behind me say, "hey you were really strong on the bike, I was trying to catch you the whole time but couldn't do it!" I appreciated his compliment and graciously let him run past me...okay, so he ran past me because I was dying. My legs felt like bricks and I thought the run would never end. When I was about to the halfway mark the worst was about to begin; I got a nasty side-ache. I'm going to spare details so as to not have to relive the last half of this run. Let's just say it involved me clutching my side, trying to stretch and open up my lungs, grunting loudly, and saying a multitude of swears in my head. Like I said, Death March.

I eventually heard the cowbells and started to pick up my pace. It was the final push in this self-war. I came over the hill and saw the finish arches. I went into dead sprint and crossed the finish line.

I didn't see my parents, but that wasn't my concern. I had one thing on my mind:

"lie down on the grass."

I grabbed a banana, orange, and water and collapsed on the fresh grass. I overheard other racers singing the same sad song about the ridiculousness of the trail run. I kind of never want to do that again haha. Maybe I just wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. Either way, I was thrilled to have finished. One more goal accomplished. I was officially an XTERRA finisher. I had fought the mountain all day and came out on top (though it felt more like a tie).

My parents are so great to come out and support my races. And of course I have to give a shout-out to my little brother Max! He's just always being the best dog/brother ever. My dad even bought a shirt -- I told you he has just as much fun as I do!