I know there are people in the world who build their vacations around “destination” races, where they need to fly to the race and perhaps even spend a few days acclimating to both new climate and time changes. I have always said that I will never do a “destination race”, and my excuse is that with so many great races nearby it seems silly to travel so far for one; the truth, though, is that a long trek to a race simply gives me more time to talk myself out of it.
In two weeks I will be competing in the Wyckoff-Franklin Lakes triathlon. This triathlon is a ½ mile swim, a 17 mile bike ride and a 5 mile run. Although this is the longest run I’ve ever done in a triathlon, I’m not overly concerned. The other events are “normal” distance, and running really is my strong suit (if I had to pick one). Besides, my marathon training starts in a few weeks, and in order to not start from scratch, I kept my mileage up from my last half marathon in March, so a 5 mile run is just a walk in the park for me, so to speak.
The problem, though, is that the three events are not running, running, and running. My swimming is OK, and by OK I mean “still lousy, even after a year of training”. And sadly, my swimming is about a million times better than my biking.
Now, I’ve been training on my bike, but my big problem is that I primarily train alone, and I am a lousy source of self motivation. While on my bike, my mind wanders to anything other than the task at hand, so I never really push myself. I’m also extremely skittish on a bike, convinced that every car on the road is gunning directly at me. There is a bike path near my house, but it’s poorly paved, and at one point crosses both and on and off-ramp for a major highway (and let’s all give a big shout out to whichever city planner thought THAT was a good idea), causing me to recite my own will in my head each time I cross them.
Last week, Jeff, my good friend and triathlon partner in crime, asked me if I wanted to meet him at the venue of our next triathlon to do the bike and run course. As I drove the 45 minutes to Franklin Lakes, New Jersey, I spent the entire time psyching myself out with phrases like, “Wow, this race has 800 people in it, and you’re still going to be last”, and “Hmm, I wonder if your biking will be so slow that they’ll just pull you off the course.” By the time I met Jeff in New Jersey, I had gotten my knickers in such a twist that I offered Jeff to treat him to breakfast at the restaurant of his choice if we could skip the training session. Jeff read right through my fears and said, “Ali, you’re going to be fine.” Then he pushed off on his bike, leaving me with 17 miles to chase after him.
I wobbled along behind Jeff for a few minutes, until it dawned on both of us that we couldn’t really bike together. Jeff is a phenomenal biker, not to mention that his bike is about 20 times better than mine, meaning it could go faster than mine even if it didn’t have anyone riding it. Jeff slowed down enough to ask me if I knew where I was going; I said yes, and that was the last time I saw him. So, now not only did I have an entire bike course to learn and be challenged by, but I had to do it alone.
The first thing I noticed about the course is that it isn’t flat. It slopes either gently or aggressively upwards for 17 miles. Every now and then there would be a down slope – for about 10 feet. But the entire time my quads were burning, and by the end of an hour my calves kept cramping up so badly that I’d have to flex my toes as best I could to stretch them while pedaling at the same time (not an easy feat). The second thing I noticed is that – well, I suck. There were dozens of other riders biking the course, likely prepping for the race in two weeks, and ALL of them passed me. I spent my morning listening to people politely call out, “On your left” as they whizzed past me like I wasn’t moving.
The course was hard, it was long, it was lonely. Then, to top it off, at mile 16 I was met by an ENORMOUS hill, one that had me barely moving forward while in the lowest gear. Several times I thought about hopping off my bike and just pushing it up this mountain –er, hill. I kept thinking that I’d actually get up the hill faster walking my bike up it than riding up at this ridiculously slow pace. But, I stayed on my bike. I decided to actually think positive thoughts, and came up with things like “You worked so hard; you’ve earned this”, “You’re strong enough to get to the top”, and “You’ve got this.” And – I did. I made it to the top of the hill. Granted, there was no blood left in my brain because it was all in my burning hot quads, but I made it. I was slower than all the other bikers that day, but I got to the top.
After my ride I threw my bike back in my car and went for a two mile run in order to give my muscles a chance to acclimate from biking to running. I saw a few of the other bikers running ahead of me, and I even caught and passed two of them (and managed to refrain from yelling “On your left!” just to be spiteful :-). When I was done I went back to my car which was alone (Jeff had likely finished up and left an hour before me), got in and drove home. And in my head, I thought about some “destination races” that I had read about and had always wanted to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment