Show Low, Arizona
I signed up for this
race because a guy from church wanted to do it and talked me into it. He ended
up dropped due to an injury, and as I was packing the car up in the pouring
rain, I was wishing I hadn’t signed up and could enjoy an easier weekend. I
kept telling myself not to be a wuss and just go do what I do. Just because the
weather was bad and forecasted to be bad the whole weekend down in the valley
doesn’t mean the weather up in the White Mountain’s would be bad. Mountain
weather is so unpredictable anyways. When I lived in Missoula Montana I never
bothered to watch a weather forecast. They were worthless.
As it turned
out, the weather was great for the whole weekend. It was nice to be out of the
heat. In fact, I don’t think I could have asked for better weather for the
race. The weather cooperated perfected, played to my strengths and as you will
see actually helped me.
Swim
The swim went
well. I started out easy, but managed to stay right behind the lead pack with
little effort. I gradually built up my speed and did not have any issues with
elevation. The water was a good temperature and I did not encounter any
congestion. My right shoulder was hurting me considerably though. It has been
bothering me since the 10k swim. I did relatively well for the elevation and my
shoulder issue. My T1 Transition was slow. Running up the hill to transition
winded me terribly and then I had difficulty with my helmet.
Bike
I was glad I
opted for the black bike. I almost brought the blue one. I certainly needed my
apex gears for the hill at the close of the ride. The bike course was a nice
ride. There were some stretches of road that were my kind of riding. I had over
a 20 mph average up until the last 10 miles, where the course turned into a
steady grinding climb. We had some scattered cloud cover that kept it relatively
cool. I took in close to my normal fluid intake. When I say normal, I mean the
intake that I had been taking in over the past summer with 3 very hot races:
Hawaii, Buffalo Springs, and Vineman. Apparently I was not sweating as much as
usual, because the last 15 miles of the ride my bladder hurt and made the ride
uncomfortable. I thought about peeing on the bike but I couldn’t seem to relax
grinding up that hill.
Run
I started the
run with legs as heavy as lead from the last 10 miles of that bike ride. The
grind of that long cat 3 hill turned my legs into heavy metal. The run course starts
out pretty rough. I joked to a guy next me that I thought the Xterra race was
on Sunday. We started out running in gravel slightly up hill and it felt like I
wasn’t even moving. I spoke with several other athletes after the race who felt
the same. The course then hit dirt and even some rocks as you have to traverse
a dry river bed. My average quickly rose above a 10 minute mile and continued
to climb as the run wore on. The elevation and that 10 mile bike climb made me
feel like I was made out of lead. I stopped concentrating on my target pace and
just tried maintain a steady run. Even that became difficult as we hit inclines.
There were only two significant hills on the course and both of them were not
very long. They were just tough hills at 6,000 + feet and after 60+ miles of
hard racing. I focused on just continuing to run, questioning why I signed up
for this torture. The first hour of the run my bladder continued to trouble me.
I convinced myself that the water would be absorbed since the sun was making
things hotter. I was doing fairly well time wise and I had studied my
competition. Prior to the race I had looked up past results and this year’s competitors. After that I looked up each competitor’s racing
histories on Athlinks.
I knew enough
about my competition to know that I was still in the mix for a place on the
podium. A little over 5 miles into the run my bladder was becoming a real distraction
and affecting my ability to run. I knew that I did not have time to stop and
pee. My competition was too close. I would need every second. So I did
something I have never had to do before. I passed an aid station and dumped a
lot of water on my head and then grabbed a bunch of sponges to mask what I was
about to do. After I cleared the aid station I just peed myself while moving.
My bladder was very full. It just kept running down my legs and I was running
in soggy shoes leaving a trail of foot prints on the hot asphalt. Oh well, I felt much better and then I could
run normally again. The course was basically a two loop 10k course that had an extra mile in the middle. The extra mile was an uphill/downhill out and back that gave me a look at all my competition. One guy was leading me by a good ¼ mile. I knew there was no way I was going to catch him the way I was feeling. I just didn’t think I could run any faster without completely breaking down. Behind me were 4 more challengers hot on my heels maybe 200 yards behind me looking strong. From what I could deduce, I was in second place with 7 miles to go. I winced as I thought about the fact that my competition had seen me and now knew that I was in reach. They would be chasing me hard and I knew that if I wanted a place on the podium, I was going to have to go through tremendous suffering over the next hour. I resolved to pick up my current pace a bit to discourage them. That began to take a toll very quickly and the suffering increased. The heat was beginning to become an issue. There was no ice offered on the course and I thought to myself about how I tend to do better in heat than most. Maybe the guy in front of me would breakdown in this heat. Sure enough, about a mile later I found him walking through the now scorching river bed. As I passed him I said something about the heat and ran by him in a display of strength designed to crush any thoughts he had of giving chase. Several miles later we went down this long dirt road and turned around. I got to see my competition again. I had not made any ground on them, but they had also not made any ground on me.
I focused my mind on the fact that I had forced down good nutrition and stayed hydrated. They had to be discouraged that they had made no headway against me. I told myself that I was stronger. I am a good closer. I picked up my pace to crush their hopes.
I don’t know how many people can truly appreciate what it takes to run your last hour with that kind of pressure. Your mind betrays you listing all the reason you should back off and how a stupid trophy is not worth the agony you are experiencing. 67 miles into a hard race, the exhaustion and pain threatens to swallow you and you have to fight your mutinous body and mind with your spirit. It is a constant battle that begins to drain even your spirit. I prayed for strength as I had continually throughout the day. I really wanted to finish first in my division with Christian watching.
There was a big hill about a half mile from the finish line. I knew that it would be a challenge. I ran up it until my heart rate was in the red. Then I walked backwards to check out my competition. They were nowhere in sight. I had broken them. I felt a huge relief. Now I still kept running, and running hard. I wasn’t taking any chances, but at least I could enjoy the last half mile knowing that they could not catch me and I would cross that line safely in first place.
For me this was
a great race.
