XTERRA Nat'l Championships

XTERRA National Championships. A day, a venue, and a race of nothing other than epic proportions. There were celebrities among the participants, age groupers, physically challenged athletes, and people who had no clue as to what they were doing. There was laughter and nerves, tears and joy. This is a race that will forever go into my own record books.

I woke up race morning confident and excited. To be honest there were no butterflies or nerves. I knew what I had to do and I knew that I had the training and the skills to carry me through to the finish line. I had every known advantage over this girl pre-race. I was acclimated, knew the course really well, and had raced far more than she did. But a race can be won or lost by anyone on any certain day, the statistics don't make the slightest difference.

I started the swim at the front as usual. Swimming in a long-sleeve wetsuit for the first time was weird, even though I felt like I was gliding through the water. My arms started to fatigue earlier than normal so instead of lots of strokes I made long, more powerful movements through the water. Halfway through I was feeling great, finally settling into a rhythm. I must admit that this was the most chaotic swim I have ever been in. People were swimming over top of my legs, hitting me in the face, and punching me in the gut. I guess that's the consequence when swimming with 500 people.

Out of the water, got the wetsuit off without much of a problem and was out of T1 onto the bike. The first uphill I got passed by everyone and there mother (I guess the 4 weeks of lots of riding is still beat out by being native to the mountains). I didn't panic, kept my calm because my body felt good. First descent. YES. Now that is where I could get into my comfort zone. Amazing. At this point I was passing people on the bike (who would later pass me on the climbs). I guess being a fearless idiot sometimes pays off. This was the longest and quite possibly the hardest bike course I have ever done. Not because of technical terrain but because of all. the. climbing. 4400 feet of vertical on this course, but I guess it was worth it with the descents. Who doesn't enjoy flying down the side of a mountain, on a piece of metal with two rubber wheels? Sounds like a good time if you ask me.

Well I suppose being too fearless in this instance is what got me into trouble. I was flying down these switchbacks and jumps and had just passed a lady when I approached another switchback. Same method as the one before. Go wide to the left then cut in at the apex of the turn. Well too much speed and too much loose dirt and I bit it hard. Road rash down the right leg and right arm, face covered in mud. Picked up my bike, a little rattled and was determined to make up the time I lost. Three miles from transition the cramping started. Inner thighs, VMO, calves. Out of nowhere it hit me. I told myself to embrace and to suck it up because I was almost home. Going down into transition my leg were cramping more than ever. I attempted to get my feet out of my shoes (to do a flying dismount), got the left foot out and then when trying to get the right foot out my leg cramped, the officials were yelling at me to dismount and I hit the brakes on a gravel road and was thrown from my bike. In front of who knows how many people. I knew I was bleeding but didn't realize how bad the gash actually was. I walked my bike into transition, disoriented and crying, I think more due to shock and embarrassment than to actual pain.

                                      (This is what leg looked post-race, it really hurt by this point)

I racked my bike and tried to stay composed as Chip ran next to me out of transition. I couldn't even look at him because I knew it would break me if I gave into the pain, the embarrassment, and the fear that had completely overtaken me. Those next 6 miles were the longest of my life. I really thought that I would never get to the finish line. I tried to just make it from aid station to aid station, running occasionally. I keep telling myself to "embrace the suck," that I had worked too hard and too long to give up on my dream when it was really getting hard. I met up with a familiar face on the run, my riding buddy Jared. We talked and "hiked" together and then he was off. It helped immensely to see someone that I knew when I was at my weakest. The last mile and a half I ran. I had run so many mile sprints before that I could make it through this no matter what. I ran into the finish with blood everywhere and tears in my eyes, with a time of 5:05:33. Far off from what I had hope for, but towards the end it was purely survival.

 I was overcome with joy to see the people who meant so much to me waiting at the finish-line. The people who came and cheered and the ones who were cheering me on at home are what got to to that finish-line.

Let's just say this race will not soon be forgotten. What a fantastic day. Including a 4 hour ER visit, 10 stitches, and a knee brace. But so many laughs, along with many profanities, pain, blood, tears, and happiness. I accomplished what I set out to do at the beginning of the season.