But I digress. Back to the important matters at hand. It is that glorious time of year that thousands of us Minnesota inhabitants dream of. It is finally warm enough to pull our bikes off the trainers, shed our many layers of sub zero thermal gear, and to get back out onto the roads and trails of the beautiful midwest. As with every start of the 2016 multi sport season, Gear West Duathlon is usually the first race for most of us, and 2016 was no different for me. I will preface this by telling you that this race is usually a course that I absolutely loath and love at the same time. The "rolling hills" that the website describe are much more aggressive and annoying that the term "rolling" really does justice. And while the cross country run is absolutely gorgeous, and a nice departure from the concrete jungle that we usually end up on, my calves and hamstrings really disagreed by the end of it.
2016 is a really different year for me in many ways. The first is that I will be tackling my first half Ironman distance race in only 2 weeks. My training has been completely different than it has in the last few years, and I have really started to dial in my nutrition and lifestyle to accommodate that. I have even given up beer for the next two weeks. (Not my favorite idea, but I am testing a theory. I will update after the race to see if that was worth it.)
Now, my amazing and knowledgeable coach, Mike Ladendorf, had decided that this year, my pre Gear West warm up the day before was going to be much different than years past. He decided that a 2 hour ride would be a great way to have me feel what fatigued legs felt like on race day. While I assumed that he was doing this to torture me, as he is my brother and all, I figured he may have had a grand master plan that was probably good for me in the end.
Well, we all know that when you start a race feeling good, it is not necessarily a good sign. The weather that day was beautiful, the sun was shining, no rain in sight, and the temps were in the 70's. When I started out on my first run, I felt like I do most race days. My nerves were high, and I shot out of the gate a little faster than I probably should have, but I held a solid 7:20 pace for those three miles. Getting onto the bike was like I had expected, and I knew I had some challenging hills ahead of me. While most of those 16 miles were just as gross as I had remembered, I somehow felt decent for the first portion. As I hit mile 12, I felt that creeping sensation that my legs were about to blow up, and not in a good way. I drank some water, had a GU packet and just prayed that this wasn't going to go as terribly as I felt it would.
Then I approached T2 and was out on the last run portion. And then it hit. The dead weight, can't go on, heavy as bags of sand legs feeling. I had felt this before on my first Olympic distance race, but never this aggressive. But, being a multi sport athlete, I knew I was going to push myself as hard as I could to get to that finish line. The first mile didn't feel great, and the last 2 felt even worse. Let's just say when I hit that last monster hill and saw the photographer at the top, I didn't give him a huge smile or even a thumbs up. But I finished hard and I am proud of that.
My results were nothing fantastic, in fact I was a mere :04 faster than last year. But when I look at the fact that I had a long, hilly ride the day before, I am darn proud of this day. My 2nd place Age Group finish didn't hurt either.
This was a jarring reminder that in only a few short weeks I will be competing at a longer distance than I ever have before. And it is going to hurt. And I am going to feel like crap at some points. And I am going to have many negative thoughts in my head throughout that day. But in the end I am going to finish. I have trained all year to compete and I am going to do just that. Because that's what we do. Even if I am not an Elite athlete, I am going to go out there and pretend I am for a day. And then, after I finish, I am going to eat post race hot dogs like I am a competitive eater. Because that's also what we do.
Until then, race hard. Race fast.
