rumbled

Today (Saturday) was the day. The Rio Bravo Rumble. an off-road biathlon. 10k run. 16 mile ride. Emily’s idea to enter it; solo since we were unable to figure out an equitable way of determining which of us would run and which would ride as a duo.

Smiling in denial of the pain to come

Who brought the camera into the dressing room?

#789 on my Walt. Em’s 789 on my Walt.

Staging the bikes

all dressed up, pretending to be excited about running (have I mentioned that it was warm?)

after a 15 minute delay, we were off. Despite no longer being a runner, I still remember what it felt like to be fast. I moved up the through the ranks, pacing myself, striding comfortably, total control. When the pain set in, I stole a quick glance at my watch. A whopping ten minutes had passed. uh-oh. I’m not a runner. Houston, we may have a problem. I settled into survival mode, reducing to walking on the bitch of a climb (which I’d also have to climb during the second lap). Over the last two miles, I slowly lose contact with the group with whom I had been running/jogging/pacing/something.

Finally, after 45 minutes (ish), I was in the transition area, excited to be on my bike. I love my Walt, but the Rat Ride is still fun to ride. Yeah. This is more like it. This is what I do. What I like. What I love. What’s that, up ahead? I recognize that mad dervish spinning action. He must be on a ss. Catch him on the first climb, chat briefly, see another spinner a little further ahead. Catch him. a nice seven 29er. I roll even with him on a flat section, as I pull even, he exclaims “I hate being passed by gear riders on a flat..oh shit. you’re on a single speed too.” we hit a climb, and I pull ahead. Feeling good. strong. nice. Wait a minute? What’s that? Why is my right calf cramping. This isn’t good. Stretch on the next slight downhill. that’s a little better. oops. now my left calf is cramping. now their both cramping. keep pedaling, try to stretch, climb gently, but quickly, standing. sitting. toes up-toes down. still cramping.  Those cramps lasted the rest of the race. never locking up, but always there, reminding me that I need to be careful without slowing down too much). I actually looked forward to the climbs that forced me to walk, as I was able to stretch while pushing.  Most of the course was pretty good for the ss. A fair amount of climbing, some fun singletrack (through cow pastures); rutted, bumpy, and off-camber, but the final couple of miles for each lap were horrible. Orchard flat. Completely spun out, trying to snag a draft from anyone that passed. During the last lap, I was able to watch in helpless horror as a geared rider reeled me in over the last two miles. Long site lines, flat dirt roads. Had the course been 100 m longer, he’d have passed me.

“It eats people!”, said Emily. Describing how racing the Walt feels. Choir. Preaching. Enough said. I’ll have to do an inventory of my bikes before she returns to Vancouver.   Notice the SSWC ‘08 tee.. she’s drank the kool-aid, now we just have to get another ss before SSWC ‘09, because I don’t think that I can share my Walt for that one.

Our burgeoning-traditional post-ride trip to Chipotle, followed by a nap…life is good

Next-up: the Temecula 12 hour race next weekend…