Nope, I didn't just do Ironman...don't worry. Not THAT crazy, though as that cannon signaled the start of the race...I really wanted to be there. But, that day will come, in fact, I can now circle August 30th, 2009 on my calendar. The countdown has begun...
I volunteered at the race this past weekend to get a feel for what's going to happen. Wow, it's incredible. It's mecca for triathletes. The city is bursting at the seams with triathletes; seasoned and first-timers alike, and everywhere you look you're reminded of why everyone is here. The city is electrified with all their energy and it's incredibly infectious.
I helped out in the bike lot. On Saturday it was to meet and greet the athletes. We had to rack the bikes and get them oriented as to where they'd exit the lake, pick up their swim-to-bike transition bag, get changed, pick up their bike, and start the bike portion of the race. The pros were all about business; no help required. Then there were the "newbies" with the deer-in-the-headlights look going on and you couldn't help but reassure them and tell them that it's going to be great! I got so many hugs from complete strangers thanking me for their support. It was a pleasure to be there and to get caught up in their enthusiasm.
Race day started early (6am) and back to the bike lot to check on the bikes (make sure there weren't any flats). If we find a bike that needs repairing, we let one of the techs know and they change tires, tubes and tweak anything else that the athlete needs...sometime without the athlete ever knowing. How cool is that? It was amazing to see how many people had photos of family members taped to their handlebars for motivation...made me cry just looking at it. There was so much emotion on that morning...when the cannon went off to signal the start of the race there was no holding back the tears...and there wasn't a dry eye in the house. Yahoo!
The swim was incredible! The "blender" of arms and legs and just the sheer number of 2000 bodies doing the same thing was captivating.
Once the racers started coming in it was fun to see the "strippers" wrestle people out of their suits and send them on their way to get changed into their bike clothing (if necessary)...then they grabbed their bikes and they were off! I got to see a few friends off on their bikes...and whoosh, they were gone!
When the pros started coming back it was "get the hell out of the way" time. These guys/gals mean business! I can honestly say I would never throw Lucifer like that, but then again...I'm not sponsored! :) There was a steady stream of athletes from that point on, until 17:30 when the cut-off time signaled the closing of the bike lot entrance. By the time the bike lot was closed the first pro was finished his race. Amazing to see them stride across the line looking fresh. I'd look that way too if I was paid to do that...still, it's pretty cool to see.
This is where the race really began to hit home. It was time for my friends to be finishing. It's pretty amazing to see someone you've ridden with or swam with cross the finish line. Wow...incredible! Everyone looked fantastic! What inspiration!!!
To that end, I am sitting beside my registration number that will enable me to sign up for IMC 2009. I will sign up first thing on September 1, and then it's "game on".
As cheesy as this sounds, I can already hear the announcer saying "Allyson Bower, today you ARE an Ironman" as I cross the finish line next year. It gives me goosebumps. I can't wait!
But, the focus is now back to Grand Coulee...BRING IT ON!
Monday, August 25, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
An Introduction to Grand Coulee
I figured that taking a gander at the bike course ahead of time would be beneficial to the upcoming race, so I was off on a wee road trip. I borrowed a tent and a therma rest from a friend (thanks, Mike!), packed some food, took my passport (can't go anywhere without that) and I started heading south.
I've spent a bit of time in Washington before, but it had been years since I had been down to the Grand Coulee Dam area. It's not the most picturesque of places, but I was more impressed with the hospitality of the people I met. Whoever said Americans aren't friendly certainly hadn't met the people I did...it was great. Perhaps it was the "crazy bike" I had on the roof of my car...I don't think Lucifer is crazy looking, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Everyone was easy to talk to and very willing to help out a stranger!
I got into the GC area by about dinner time...oh, did I mention it was hotter than HELL down there? Oh, my God! I got a campsite at the Roosevelt Lake State Park for $10 a night and it was a great little campsite. Good facilities, a beautiful lake (about 5 miles from Banks Lake where the race starts) and very clean. I camped across from a retired Fire Chief from Prince George and next to a couple from Penticton...Canadians! I was in good company.
By the time I had set up the tent and gotten my bike ready for the next day, I was pretty tired (had just come off night shift), so I hit the sack early. A good thing because 5:30am comes quickly. I decided that it would be best to get this ride over with before the true heat of the day...also a good idea. I didn't really sleep very well due to the fact that it was still about eight thousand degrees in the tent (Mike neglected to mention that the tent didn't come with air conditioning...something that should come with tents, don't you agree?)...no breeze and no prospect of cooling off...oh well, nothing that a bit more electrolyte concoction couldn't fix, right?
My eyeballs popped open at 5:28am, just in time to intercept my alarm so as to not wake my neighbors. Brushed my teeth, had some breakfast and set out in search of the Coulee Playground which is where the swim/bike transition area is. It was eerie being the only person up at that time; even the crickets had gone to sleep...something I wished I had just a bit more of. But, I was off for an adventure!
I found the place where the race was to begin from and figured it would be closed. Well, this was not the case. Apparently, every red-necked American who was a Bass Fisherman was there vying for the coveted Coulee Playground Annual Bass Fishing Tournament Cup. Fish beware! I attracted a few looks from the fishermen who were out and about readying themselves for battle against the elusive fishes...but, in all fairness, I was more concerned about being in a place I'd never been before and about to start riding in unfamiliar territory...all by myself. I'm a bit anal about riding alone (and being the US with their questionable health care system; I'd envisioned buzzards pecking my eyeballs out as I lay in a ditch broken...but, there were no buzzards...I asked). I met a lovely lady named Deloris, who was close friends with the race organizers and took me on a guided tour of where the race takes place. She was extremely helpful in getting me oriented with a more detailed map of the course and said that I was to check back in with her upon my return. I checked the map, got the rest of my stuff from the car and upon pressing "start" on my Garmin...I was off!
0630hrs: Started up the switchbacks. Holy crap...these damn thing go on FOREVER! It went up, and up, and up...and then, just when you think you're at the top...on the pavement, as if to taunt you, someone has written (inspirationally, of course) that you only have "3 more turns until the top"...gee, thanks. Well, at that point, HR pinned, legs screaming...it was nice to have some reassurance that "this" was going to be over soon. Getting to the top was a victory, I'm not going to lie to you. But it was pretty short lived. There's nothing up there...except some extremely vast expanses of wheat fields as far as the eye can see. When there wasn't wheat there were fields of dirt...dry, sun-baked dirt...much like a Moon scape...it was pretty desolate up there. There were grasshoppers flinging themselves in front of my tire; "...please stop doing that", I requested, to no avail. Still, they mounted their relentless suicidal attack. There were some big ass beetles marching across the road...where were they going? As big as your thumb...it became a bit of a game to dodge the grasshoppers and the beetles...I was waiting for the snakes to show themselves, but...NOT A ONE!!! Whew! One of the reasons I am talking about the bugs I saw along the way is because there was no one on the road at that time of the day. It was like I had stepped into another dimension where it was just me and my friends the beetles and grasshoppers (actually, I was hoping that I didn't mistake the grasshoppers for locusts, as Nowhere-town,USA was not where I had anticipated spending my last moments on Earth...these are the things I think about all alone, without my morning coffee on a bike in the middle of no where...). But I pedaled on...Once up onto the Mesa the road "undulated" (what a great word...NOT!) for what seemed like FOREVER. Just when you thought you were on top of something...there, off in the distance, was another roller that took you higher. Ugg. This was a lot of work. No doubt about it. Just gotta keep grinding it out...
0815hrs: I saw my first vehicle...and they waved. No, really, they actually waved. It warmed my heart to know that my plight was not completely in vain...that someone recognized my toil.
0835hrs: Destination: Almira, Wa. I stopped at a service station (presumably the only one for MILES) and had to ask for clarification on my really sweaty map. The 3 people in the store were a bit apprehensive of the "alien" that was coming in...as they had admittedly watched me lap the store 2 or 3 times wondering when I was going to cave and ask for directions. "...you lost?", he asked. "well, not really." I said, "...I know where I am, I just don't know how to get back to where I started", an honest answer that made them all crack up. :) I got the directions and set out with the precautionary warning of what was to come...the Almira hill.
0840hrs: Almira Hill. Holy shit. This mother of a hill is no joke. It's about 10 miles in length and climbs and climbs and climbs. It doesn't stop. It doesn't get easier, it just keeps going and going. It was here that I really had to "flip my switch" and think about something other than this arduous task in front of me. I was really caught between stopping, but what would that accomplish...NOBODY KNEW WHERE I WAS! And, nobody, except the odd motorist who waved and smiled with the vigor of someone who has had a warm cup of coffee and a plate of banana pancakes to start the day with, cared! I was in the middle of no where...too far to retrace my steps and doing battle with the voices in my head to stop climbing this damn hill. What the fuck was I was I doing? But...I kept going. It's gotta stop eventually, right?
1015hrs: Reprieve...my physics teacher wasn't lying...what goes up DOES come down. When the power lines began to come into view I knew I was almost there. The decent was wicked...at this point I was so grateful to not be climbing that I didn't realize the speed that was creeping up. At last glance my speed was 37...MILES AN HOUR! Oh my God, the "what if's" at this point could not come into play...I just had to hold on. Getting out onto State Road 174 meant that the Coulee Playground was not far away...I had almost done it. I was just about home. The true course has you routed up to the Grand Coulee Dam, but I turned south back to the Coulee Playground to call it a day.
All in all, it took about 3 and a half hours...a time that I wasn't too pleased with. BUT, considering I didn't know where I was going, AND I did it all alone (no offence to the grasshoppers and beetles that became my "peeps"), AND I made it back in one piece...I was really proud of myself. I checked back in with Deloris and grabbed a Red Bull for the drive back to camp.
Apparently, the run is pancake flat...great, after that punishing bike ride we deserve something like that. The weather was decent on my ride. I rode early in the morning, a bit earlier than what I imagine race day to be, so the wind didn't have time to get too fierce...but I can see where it would play a factor. Nothing you can do about it, but it's nice when it's not in your face...literally. In all, it's going to be a challenging course, but if it was easy everyone would be doing it, right? I am looking forward to sharing this day with Ginny, Andrew, Mike, Joel, Myra and Danny, but most of all with Lisa. Rock on September 13!!!
I've spent a bit of time in Washington before, but it had been years since I had been down to the Grand Coulee Dam area. It's not the most picturesque of places, but I was more impressed with the hospitality of the people I met. Whoever said Americans aren't friendly certainly hadn't met the people I did...it was great. Perhaps it was the "crazy bike" I had on the roof of my car...I don't think Lucifer is crazy looking, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Everyone was easy to talk to and very willing to help out a stranger!
I got into the GC area by about dinner time...oh, did I mention it was hotter than HELL down there? Oh, my God! I got a campsite at the Roosevelt Lake State Park for $10 a night and it was a great little campsite. Good facilities, a beautiful lake (about 5 miles from Banks Lake where the race starts) and very clean. I camped across from a retired Fire Chief from Prince George and next to a couple from Penticton...Canadians! I was in good company.
By the time I had set up the tent and gotten my bike ready for the next day, I was pretty tired (had just come off night shift), so I hit the sack early. A good thing because 5:30am comes quickly. I decided that it would be best to get this ride over with before the true heat of the day...also a good idea. I didn't really sleep very well due to the fact that it was still about eight thousand degrees in the tent (Mike neglected to mention that the tent didn't come with air conditioning...something that should come with tents, don't you agree?)...no breeze and no prospect of cooling off...oh well, nothing that a bit more electrolyte concoction couldn't fix, right?
My eyeballs popped open at 5:28am, just in time to intercept my alarm so as to not wake my neighbors. Brushed my teeth, had some breakfast and set out in search of the Coulee Playground which is where the swim/bike transition area is. It was eerie being the only person up at that time; even the crickets had gone to sleep...something I wished I had just a bit more of. But, I was off for an adventure!
I found the place where the race was to begin from and figured it would be closed. Well, this was not the case. Apparently, every red-necked American who was a Bass Fisherman was there vying for the coveted Coulee Playground Annual Bass Fishing Tournament Cup. Fish beware! I attracted a few looks from the fishermen who were out and about readying themselves for battle against the elusive fishes...but, in all fairness, I was more concerned about being in a place I'd never been before and about to start riding in unfamiliar territory...all by myself. I'm a bit anal about riding alone (and being the US with their questionable health care system; I'd envisioned buzzards pecking my eyeballs out as I lay in a ditch broken...but, there were no buzzards...I asked). I met a lovely lady named Deloris, who was close friends with the race organizers and took me on a guided tour of where the race takes place. She was extremely helpful in getting me oriented with a more detailed map of the course and said that I was to check back in with her upon my return. I checked the map, got the rest of my stuff from the car and upon pressing "start" on my Garmin...I was off!
0630hrs: Started up the switchbacks. Holy crap...these damn thing go on FOREVER! It went up, and up, and up...and then, just when you think you're at the top...on the pavement, as if to taunt you, someone has written (inspirationally, of course) that you only have "3 more turns until the top"...gee, thanks. Well, at that point, HR pinned, legs screaming...it was nice to have some reassurance that "this" was going to be over soon. Getting to the top was a victory, I'm not going to lie to you. But it was pretty short lived. There's nothing up there...except some extremely vast expanses of wheat fields as far as the eye can see. When there wasn't wheat there were fields of dirt...dry, sun-baked dirt...much like a Moon scape...it was pretty desolate up there. There were grasshoppers flinging themselves in front of my tire; "...please stop doing that", I requested, to no avail. Still, they mounted their relentless suicidal attack. There were some big ass beetles marching across the road...where were they going? As big as your thumb...it became a bit of a game to dodge the grasshoppers and the beetles...I was waiting for the snakes to show themselves, but...NOT A ONE!!! Whew! One of the reasons I am talking about the bugs I saw along the way is because there was no one on the road at that time of the day. It was like I had stepped into another dimension where it was just me and my friends the beetles and grasshoppers (actually, I was hoping that I didn't mistake the grasshoppers for locusts, as Nowhere-town,USA was not where I had anticipated spending my last moments on Earth...these are the things I think about all alone, without my morning coffee on a bike in the middle of no where...). But I pedaled on...Once up onto the Mesa the road "undulated" (what a great word...NOT!) for what seemed like FOREVER. Just when you thought you were on top of something...there, off in the distance, was another roller that took you higher. Ugg. This was a lot of work. No doubt about it. Just gotta keep grinding it out...
0815hrs: I saw my first vehicle...and they waved. No, really, they actually waved. It warmed my heart to know that my plight was not completely in vain...that someone recognized my toil.
0835hrs: Destination: Almira, Wa. I stopped at a service station (presumably the only one for MILES) and had to ask for clarification on my really sweaty map. The 3 people in the store were a bit apprehensive of the "alien" that was coming in...as they had admittedly watched me lap the store 2 or 3 times wondering when I was going to cave and ask for directions. "...you lost?", he asked. "well, not really." I said, "...I know where I am, I just don't know how to get back to where I started", an honest answer that made them all crack up. :) I got the directions and set out with the precautionary warning of what was to come...the Almira hill.
0840hrs: Almira Hill. Holy shit. This mother of a hill is no joke. It's about 10 miles in length and climbs and climbs and climbs. It doesn't stop. It doesn't get easier, it just keeps going and going. It was here that I really had to "flip my switch" and think about something other than this arduous task in front of me. I was really caught between stopping, but what would that accomplish...NOBODY KNEW WHERE I WAS! And, nobody, except the odd motorist who waved and smiled with the vigor of someone who has had a warm cup of coffee and a plate of banana pancakes to start the day with, cared! I was in the middle of no where...too far to retrace my steps and doing battle with the voices in my head to stop climbing this damn hill. What the fuck was I was I doing? But...I kept going. It's gotta stop eventually, right?
1015hrs: Reprieve...my physics teacher wasn't lying...what goes up DOES come down. When the power lines began to come into view I knew I was almost there. The decent was wicked...at this point I was so grateful to not be climbing that I didn't realize the speed that was creeping up. At last glance my speed was 37...MILES AN HOUR! Oh my God, the "what if's" at this point could not come into play...I just had to hold on. Getting out onto State Road 174 meant that the Coulee Playground was not far away...I had almost done it. I was just about home. The true course has you routed up to the Grand Coulee Dam, but I turned south back to the Coulee Playground to call it a day.
All in all, it took about 3 and a half hours...a time that I wasn't too pleased with. BUT, considering I didn't know where I was going, AND I did it all alone (no offence to the grasshoppers and beetles that became my "peeps"), AND I made it back in one piece...I was really proud of myself. I checked back in with Deloris and grabbed a Red Bull for the drive back to camp.
Apparently, the run is pancake flat...great, after that punishing bike ride we deserve something like that. The weather was decent on my ride. I rode early in the morning, a bit earlier than what I imagine race day to be, so the wind didn't have time to get too fierce...but I can see where it would play a factor. Nothing you can do about it, but it's nice when it's not in your face...literally. In all, it's going to be a challenging course, but if it was easy everyone would be doing it, right? I am looking forward to sharing this day with Ginny, Andrew, Mike, Joel, Myra and Danny, but most of all with Lisa. Rock on September 13!!!
Monday, August 11, 2008
How bad is this going to hurt?...
Ok, I know it's over a year until I race my first Ironman (possibly my only Ironman), but I just had to know how far 180 kilometres felt. Well, it's far...really far.
I rode most of the course last weekend and, inadvertently, went further than I had anticipated. I rode to Osoyoos then up Richter (thanks, Eric...) and then back-tracked to Penticton where I started. I had a great ride up Richter; paying close attention to heart rate and managed to get to the top before my legs gave out. When I got to the top there was a volunteer from Cops for Cancer handing out ice cold Gatorade, Red Bull, Powergells, etc...it was like heaven!!!! I gratefully accepted a cold Gatorade and stated that I had accomplished my goal for that day and it was time to head for home. The man looked at me a bit funny and said, "...you've come this far, why don't you just ride the whole course?". "Oh no," I said, "...that's much too far for me today, besides I don't have to ride that far because I'm not doing IM until next year". I still remember his puzzled look as I rode back down the monumental hill...
To make a rather convoluted story short, as I was approaching Okanagan Falls, after pretty much bonking from not eating or drinking I did a bit of third-grade math and shook my head at myself. By the time I got back to Penticton I will have completed close to 160 kilometres...the damn course is only 180 kilometres! Grrr....
That was it. I had made it up in my mind that I was coming back the following weekend and doing the WHOLE course. And...for my first kick at the cat...it was something I'll never forget.
I promised myself that in doing this absurd task (I mean, really...I don't HAVE to do that distance until early next summer...what the hell was I thinking?!) that I would achieve 3 things. First: I had to keep my heart rate low. This is not a race, this is an exercise in endurance. Let's just see how far I could go and for how long. That seemed fair enough, right? Second: I HAD to eat. One thing I figured out the weekend previous was that as time went on I just "forgot" to eat. And then, when it was too late, I had nothing left. Hmmm, this could be a problem if I wasn't able to eat or find things that I wanted to eat after 2 or 3 hours in the saddle. The weekend before when I had gotten back to Okanagan Falls, in my pseudo-diabetic coma...I reached for...you got it...Red Bull and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups. Boy, did that nutritional combination taste good for the first 3 minutes...followed by waves of complete euphoria coupled with gut wrenching nausea! (...mental note to self: no more Red Bull and PB Cups...) Yikes! But, back to the nutrition...I selected a veritable buffet of random gel flavors (6-8 of them) for this adventure, a Cliff Bar, Shot Blocks (they were awesome...I'll note when and where they came in handy), a protein bar, and a Sun-Rype Fruit bar...all of which did the trick! I made sure that I had a gel every 35-45 minutes. After I got board of sucking back gels, I switched textures with the Cliff Bar (a bit too sweet, but there are so many flavours to choose from, thankfully) and that seemed to give my stomach what it wanted. And thirdly; I had to drink LOTS. I was really fortunate that the weather didn't start out as hot as it was the weekend before, but given that I was in the Desert, it did get hot. I made sure that my electrolyte mixture was pretty strong and also added 3 sodium tablets to the bottle as well. I brought a ziplock baggie of more electrolyte powder and sodium tablets to add to water that I would buy along the way. I really think that my dillagence in all three of those areas really made the adventure enjoyable.
7 hours is a lot of time to be doing anything...and to be doing anything alone for that length of time was challenging at times. Eric had given me the run-down on the course. "...go easy up Richter, the back side is fast...the rollers go on forever so don't be too keen to power over them...and, if you're lucky the nasty head-wind into Keremeos might relent just enough for your legs to grind it up to Yellow Lake...then you're almost home".
I achieved the first objective; conserve your energy up Richter. Done. I just had to keep in mind that the "rollers" on the back side of Richter will eat me up if I didn't take it easy. It was at this point that I chucked a Shot Block into my mouth and just sucked on it like a hard candy. That little electrolyte block was just what I needed to keep me sustained over those hills. When I reached Keremeos I had realized that I missed the out and back section. Crap! This almost sent me over the edge. I got some infromation from some other riders and made my way down the rough road that the out and back is on. Well...I saw one. A snake. It was big, and ugly and lying at the side of the road...not too sure if it was alive or sleeping, but the exclamation of "Lord Jesus and baby Jesus" at the top of my lungs probably woke the dead. Uggghh, they are the bain of my existance, really. It has been quite a journey to get past this fear...and I still have a way to go. Back to my journey...
I made it back to Keremeos, only to realize that I should refil my water and who should I run into, but Eric! We chatted for a few minutes, got refueled, rehydrated and we were off! "See you in Penticton...you're almost there!" and he was off! Up ahead, I saw what would toy with my mental strength for the rest of the trip...the green mileage markers...Penticton 45 kilometeres. Yippee! I'm almost home! That was short-lived.
Yellow Lake. The climb to get to Yellow Lake is aweful. Plain and simple. It sucks. It keeps going and going up and up and up some more. I fell into cadence with this guy who chatted my ear off for about 20 minutes...another funny story for another time, but he got me up that horrible hill. The Universe does work in mysterious ways. I needed something external to focus on for the part and it was presented to me. Getting to the top was SUCH a huge achievement...I let out a little yell...and kept on pedaling. I could feel Penticton getting closer.
The upside to pedaling uphill endlessly is going downhill...FAST! I almost scared myself I was going so fast...it took everything I had to hold on. It just had to be done. Before I knew it, I was across Highway 97 and was heading North to Penticton. Then the Airport...and back into town. Oh my God, is that the big Peach...am I really back where I started? Yep, there's my car...there's Eric...and I'm done. Well, I did put my shoes on and ran for 15 minutes just to see "how bad is this going to hurt?". It hurt, but a hurt that can only be felt after completing 180 kilometers for the very first time.
I rode most of the course last weekend and, inadvertently, went further than I had anticipated. I rode to Osoyoos then up Richter (thanks, Eric...) and then back-tracked to Penticton where I started. I had a great ride up Richter; paying close attention to heart rate and managed to get to the top before my legs gave out. When I got to the top there was a volunteer from Cops for Cancer handing out ice cold Gatorade, Red Bull, Powergells, etc...it was like heaven!!!! I gratefully accepted a cold Gatorade and stated that I had accomplished my goal for that day and it was time to head for home. The man looked at me a bit funny and said, "...you've come this far, why don't you just ride the whole course?". "Oh no," I said, "...that's much too far for me today, besides I don't have to ride that far because I'm not doing IM until next year". I still remember his puzzled look as I rode back down the monumental hill...
To make a rather convoluted story short, as I was approaching Okanagan Falls, after pretty much bonking from not eating or drinking I did a bit of third-grade math and shook my head at myself. By the time I got back to Penticton I will have completed close to 160 kilometres...the damn course is only 180 kilometres! Grrr....
That was it. I had made it up in my mind that I was coming back the following weekend and doing the WHOLE course. And...for my first kick at the cat...it was something I'll never forget.
I promised myself that in doing this absurd task (I mean, really...I don't HAVE to do that distance until early next summer...what the hell was I thinking?!) that I would achieve 3 things. First: I had to keep my heart rate low. This is not a race, this is an exercise in endurance. Let's just see how far I could go and for how long. That seemed fair enough, right? Second: I HAD to eat. One thing I figured out the weekend previous was that as time went on I just "forgot" to eat. And then, when it was too late, I had nothing left. Hmmm, this could be a problem if I wasn't able to eat or find things that I wanted to eat after 2 or 3 hours in the saddle. The weekend before when I had gotten back to Okanagan Falls, in my pseudo-diabetic coma...I reached for...you got it...Red Bull and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups. Boy, did that nutritional combination taste good for the first 3 minutes...followed by waves of complete euphoria coupled with gut wrenching nausea! (...mental note to self: no more Red Bull and PB Cups...) Yikes! But, back to the nutrition...I selected a veritable buffet of random gel flavors (6-8 of them) for this adventure, a Cliff Bar, Shot Blocks (they were awesome...I'll note when and where they came in handy), a protein bar, and a Sun-Rype Fruit bar...all of which did the trick! I made sure that I had a gel every 35-45 minutes. After I got board of sucking back gels, I switched textures with the Cliff Bar (a bit too sweet, but there are so many flavours to choose from, thankfully) and that seemed to give my stomach what it wanted. And thirdly; I had to drink LOTS. I was really fortunate that the weather didn't start out as hot as it was the weekend before, but given that I was in the Desert, it did get hot. I made sure that my electrolyte mixture was pretty strong and also added 3 sodium tablets to the bottle as well. I brought a ziplock baggie of more electrolyte powder and sodium tablets to add to water that I would buy along the way. I really think that my dillagence in all three of those areas really made the adventure enjoyable.
7 hours is a lot of time to be doing anything...and to be doing anything alone for that length of time was challenging at times. Eric had given me the run-down on the course. "...go easy up Richter, the back side is fast...the rollers go on forever so don't be too keen to power over them...and, if you're lucky the nasty head-wind into Keremeos might relent just enough for your legs to grind it up to Yellow Lake...then you're almost home".
I achieved the first objective; conserve your energy up Richter. Done. I just had to keep in mind that the "rollers" on the back side of Richter will eat me up if I didn't take it easy. It was at this point that I chucked a Shot Block into my mouth and just sucked on it like a hard candy. That little electrolyte block was just what I needed to keep me sustained over those hills. When I reached Keremeos I had realized that I missed the out and back section. Crap! This almost sent me over the edge. I got some infromation from some other riders and made my way down the rough road that the out and back is on. Well...I saw one. A snake. It was big, and ugly and lying at the side of the road...not too sure if it was alive or sleeping, but the exclamation of "Lord Jesus and baby Jesus" at the top of my lungs probably woke the dead. Uggghh, they are the bain of my existance, really. It has been quite a journey to get past this fear...and I still have a way to go. Back to my journey...
I made it back to Keremeos, only to realize that I should refil my water and who should I run into, but Eric! We chatted for a few minutes, got refueled, rehydrated and we were off! "See you in Penticton...you're almost there!" and he was off! Up ahead, I saw what would toy with my mental strength for the rest of the trip...the green mileage markers...Penticton 45 kilometeres. Yippee! I'm almost home! That was short-lived.
Yellow Lake. The climb to get to Yellow Lake is aweful. Plain and simple. It sucks. It keeps going and going up and up and up some more. I fell into cadence with this guy who chatted my ear off for about 20 minutes...another funny story for another time, but he got me up that horrible hill. The Universe does work in mysterious ways. I needed something external to focus on for the part and it was presented to me. Getting to the top was SUCH a huge achievement...I let out a little yell...and kept on pedaling. I could feel Penticton getting closer.
The upside to pedaling uphill endlessly is going downhill...FAST! I almost scared myself I was going so fast...it took everything I had to hold on. It just had to be done. Before I knew it, I was across Highway 97 and was heading North to Penticton. Then the Airport...and back into town. Oh my God, is that the big Peach...am I really back where I started? Yep, there's my car...there's Eric...and I'm done. Well, I did put my shoes on and ran for 15 minutes just to see "how bad is this going to hurt?". It hurt, but a hurt that can only be felt after completing 180 kilometers for the very first time.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Getting Started...
I did my very first triathlon last summer and was hooked. Plain and simple. I had never considered myself a biker...EVER; I "...only rode downhill bikes", to quote myself. And hadn't seen a lap lane of a pool since I was a kid. So, aside from running very recreationally, this was a formidable task.
I started with the guidance and encouragement of a very dear friend, Cathy, who, as an Ironman finisher herself, was only more than happy to enlighten another soul into the fold. I bought a bike, signed up for Master's Swim (much to my Mom's amazement, I'm sure!) and began to fall in love with this sport we call triathlon.
My first race was the Kal Rats Sprint Triathlon, July 2007. It was a blurr...not from my speed, but more from the fact that it was over WAY too quick. I should probably include that I am more comfortable doing longer distances (10km runs to warm up, half-marathon distances are my favourite and I swear that one day I will qualify for Boston). I got an introduction to the "blender" of the swim start, flew onto the bike and damn near died in the run (didn't take in any fuel or fluids...but I'll save nutrition for another posting). BUT, the important thing I got from it was that I loved it!
I had signed up for the Penticton Peach Classic (Olympic Distance) the following weekend...in fact, that was my goal. To say I enjoyed myself would be an understatement. The grin I had crossing that finish line is something I'll always remember. Yes, I was hooked!
I realized early on that getting a coach would be a valuable move. I was connected with, of all people, an incredible woman I went to high school with. Ginny (and her husband Andrew) have been such a gift in this whole experience. Her knowledge and passion for the sport were not only infectious, but clearly evident in everything she does. Her ability to temper my enthusiasm with information and just the right amount of reality has continued me to reach for higher goals. I started this with the intention of "getting fit and being healthy". That changed after that first race. I knew I could do more than just complete a race. I wanted more...
I have fallen hard for this sport...like you do for your first "love". I ache to train. I live to see the download of my days event from my Garmin on my laptop...I can't wait to get into the lake, on my bike or lace up my shoes to head out the door...this is my happy place and I am so grateful to have found it. The friends I have made, the experiences I've had and the things I'd like to accomplish are so profound that I've started a blog...who'd have every thought? I'm serious about doing IMC 2009 and this will be my training diary...of sorts!
"Swim Smart, Ride Strong, Run Tough"
I started with the guidance and encouragement of a very dear friend, Cathy, who, as an Ironman finisher herself, was only more than happy to enlighten another soul into the fold. I bought a bike, signed up for Master's Swim (much to my Mom's amazement, I'm sure!) and began to fall in love with this sport we call triathlon.
My first race was the Kal Rats Sprint Triathlon, July 2007. It was a blurr...not from my speed, but more from the fact that it was over WAY too quick. I should probably include that I am more comfortable doing longer distances (10km runs to warm up, half-marathon distances are my favourite and I swear that one day I will qualify for Boston). I got an introduction to the "blender" of the swim start, flew onto the bike and damn near died in the run (didn't take in any fuel or fluids...but I'll save nutrition for another posting). BUT, the important thing I got from it was that I loved it!
I had signed up for the Penticton Peach Classic (Olympic Distance) the following weekend...in fact, that was my goal. To say I enjoyed myself would be an understatement. The grin I had crossing that finish line is something I'll always remember. Yes, I was hooked!
I realized early on that getting a coach would be a valuable move. I was connected with, of all people, an incredible woman I went to high school with. Ginny (and her husband Andrew) have been such a gift in this whole experience. Her knowledge and passion for the sport were not only infectious, but clearly evident in everything she does. Her ability to temper my enthusiasm with information and just the right amount of reality has continued me to reach for higher goals. I started this with the intention of "getting fit and being healthy". That changed after that first race. I knew I could do more than just complete a race. I wanted more...
I have fallen hard for this sport...like you do for your first "love". I ache to train. I live to see the download of my days event from my Garmin on my laptop...I can't wait to get into the lake, on my bike or lace up my shoes to head out the door...this is my happy place and I am so grateful to have found it. The friends I have made, the experiences I've had and the things I'd like to accomplish are so profound that I've started a blog...who'd have every thought? I'm serious about doing IMC 2009 and this will be my training diary...of sorts!
"Swim Smart, Ride Strong, Run Tough"
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