blog banner900

blog banner900

Friday, August 21, 2015

Snow Mountain Ranch XTerra: Learn what NOT to do for a race! Part 1

After Aspen Valley XTerra, I had a week on vacation and then a week at home, I packed up my mt bike and the car and headed to CO. Snow Mountain Ranch, here I come! I did this race last year and remembered it well. My goal? to beat last year's time. And I was pretty sure it was a goal I could CRUSH!

This was the 2nd year for this venue. It is located on a YMCA property that seems to have everything: lakes, horse back riding, mountain biking, hiking and much, much more. It is located just outside of Winter Park, at about 8,000 ft. elevation.

I was looking forward to seeing a couple of friends that were also racing. The best part of XTerra is meeting people. I get very excited just to know I'll be out on the course with amazing friends and finishing with stories to share. XTerra is always a story. Because it is always unpredictable and incredible!

I had had a sore throat for the last couple of days and the aches in my neck, head, and back were becoming more obvious. I couldn't ignore them any longer. So, I was taking vitamin C, over the counter remedies for relief and a lot of cough drops. I was sure in the morning I would feel better. My throat hurt so much, I didn't eat much for dinner. Mistake #1.

We had talked about when to wake up and get things ready, but I finally fell slept. My husband is very optimistic about time, so he decided it would be best to let me sleep a little longer. By the time I woke up, I would have been fine, except that my sore throat was now laryngitis.  I was struggling to move and get myself to the start line, but even looking back, it never entered my mind not to race.

Mistake #2 was arriving at the race late. My husband parked the car and I ran to get checked in. We agreed to meet back at the car where I could get my gear and bike and ride the 1/2 mile down to the lake and transition area. After getting body marked, I walked back to the car feeling panic-y about time. The car was locked, the gear and bike were gone. My husband was no where around!! WHAT?! He must have decided I would just walk to the lake and meet me there.

Fuming, I walked to the lake wondering what he was thinking? I was so sore, so late, and so tired. It would have been faster and easier for me to ride. Why had he walked my bike down, making me walk? I got to the transition area with all the good spots taken and looked around. No bike. No gear. No husband. I almost cried from stress. My friends were there reassuring me he would arrive. I waited and stood in the bathroom line with nothing else to do. I waited a long time. Not a long time cause I was stressed, but it was a genuinely long time. The race was starting in 10 minutes. People were finishing their preswim and gathering for the prerace meeting. It was going to take me 10 minutes to get into a wet suit I didn't HAVE.

My good friend looked over and saw my husband walking into transition with my bike! "Where were you?!" I demanded, with relief.

 "I took everything to packet pick up and you weren't there." he explained.
"Why?! WHY would you do that?" I asked as I tried to get my bike in the stand. "You said to meet at the car!"

My Hubby had decided to walk on one road to pack pick-up while I was walking back on another to the car. Two parallel trails. Then he waited around trying to see if I would come back to the car. Or something. I'm not really sure why it took him so long to decide to come down with my bike.

After throwing my bike in the rack, and pulling on my wet suit, I threw some things on the ground and threw my bag next to them. There was no setting anything up. I got to the lake just in time to feel the water and stick my face in. It wasn't very cold, so I would be okay. But they called us to the beach and I didn't even take a stroke. But that's okay. I love the swim and I knew I'd be okay. Assuming I didn't need to swim was Mistake #3.

And this is probably a good place to end until the next installment.

No comments:

Post a Comment