The two weeks leading up to the race, I was feeling great. Every ride was strong and smooth. My body was feeling good. I was recovering fast from rides. If I had been smarter, I would have actually done more than one long endurance training ride before this race. But, my training mind is set up for XC racing and I didn't adapt my training schedule to work with the last minute addition of this race. We all learn from our mistakes.
Race day was here and I was feeling pretty good. I was comparing what I knew about this race to the Snake, and to be honest I thought I was going to have way less climbing to do with a lot more fun single track. Mainly because EVERY PERSON CLAIMS THIS IS THEIR FAVORITE RACE EVER. No one goes to the snake and says that (okay, they might. But they also give you the disclaimer that it is their most favorite, painful and mentally challenging race they do). Nope. No disclaimers for this one. Just a lot of love. So much love that my mind was temporarily clouded into thinking I was not going to enter any kind of pain cave. But, alas, I found the bottom of my cave during this race and I had to dig deep to try and climb out. P.s. there was definitely crying at 24 miles wanting a golf cart to come get me so I didn't have to climb another mountain or hill or whatever. My legs were burning.
This is the only smile of mine documented from that race, it was still early folks.
The start of the race is a 2 mile road climb. Everyone recommends to take your time and set your own pace. So what do I do? I hammer up that hill with the lead pack, jumping on the trail behind the women who would finish in 3:30 or less. I mean, if you killed that climb and only had a couple other climbs with a lot of fast downhills and fast single track. Joke was on me. "We are almost to the top. Do you see the white rocks?" became my absolutely most despised sentences I would hear at least 7 times that day. I never want to see a white rock for at least a couple months.
We did go down Thunder Rock Express only to have to climb a grueling gravel road to get onto the trail with more climbing. Also, I thought we were halfway done right here. I think we were actually only 14-15 miles into the race at this point. I wouldn't find that out until mile 24 when I thought I had 10 miles left to go.
This was my first endurance race that I've done with the thought of racing, not just finishing. I don't fuel right for long races no matter how hard I try. And I was *very* prepared for this race, it's just that my stomach felt heavy the whole time and I couldn't sallow solids. Mountain biking, or just biking in general, is more about pushing yourself past your limits. When your mind says "No, I can't go any further" is when you decide if you are going to quit or keep pushing. Yeah, I cried on the trail and I wanted to quit. But I was able to pull myself together and keep going. The ending of that race was a lot of fun. That trail was fast, I loathed that tiny climb to the finish though. Rude.
Now that I have raced an endurance race, I can clearly see my weaknesses and how to better prepare myself. I have one month before Oak Mountain and my training is going to be dialed in and focused, I'm going to explore better fueling options for me (liquid racing diet ideas, anyone?) We don't really talk about our failures because we are embarrassed by them. But they are part of what makes us stronger, makes us learn and grow.
Look, that face says "seriously? The finish line is on a climb?!? Somebody come murder me right now"
