Viva Las Vegas! |
Wow, I was super excited to test out my skills and fitness at the XTerra US West Championship in Lake Las Vegas on April 13, 2013. I trained hard all year (and the year before) and wanted to see what I could achieve.
Here's how it all went down....
.... 9 awesome women (Carmen, Kristal, Tara, Melinda, Diana, Brenda, Dee, Sandy and me!) headed for Las Vegas on Thursday. These girls are "Vegas-Veterans" - they know which casinos to play, where to eat, what to do. They all scoffed at my regimented schedule (eat, workout, eat, sleep, repeat), lack of alcohol, and general ants-in-my-pants nervousness. They were a great way to relax and laugh with when I started having doubts. And if not, Kristal was willing to slap me.
Carmen & Kristal: these ladies know how to make the most of an airplane ride to Vegas! |
The Dreaded Creekbed: hard as cement, and a tough line to follow |
I returned to the bike course on Friday morning, keen to ride one more lap so that I could pick better lines and be race-ready. Again, it was around 27C and the day was hardly getting started. There were more people on the course today, I managed to ride a couple of wheels but still couldn't figure out that creekbed. And then I started to do some math: at my current pace on the bike I worried that I wouldn't hit the bike cut-off. It was going to be really, really tight.
All night I was nervous, the girls were ready to ditch me. I texted Coach Jack (he thought I was crazy and underestimating my ability). I texted some girlfriends back home (they thought I was crazy and underestimating my ability). I chatted with Ryan while he was skiing fresh pow at Sunshine (he thought I was crazy and underestimating my ability but said he loved me and to go do my best). I worried and fretted about the bike cutoff. After a wonderful meal at Gordon Ramsay's restaurant, and I went to bed early.
Race day dawned hot. I arrived early to see the Sprint race start at 8:30am. The race announcer kept describing the cold water (57F) and referred to the bike/run portions as "racing on the moon" - an accurate description of the terrain.
Racing on the Moon |
The Championship course had a late start: 10:30am. That meant riding through the hottest part of the day. By 9:30 the wind kicked up, and not just any breeze, a virtual convection oven windstorm. Some of the pro's commented post-race that they had a tough time staying on-course, it was very, very windy on some of those ridges. And the wind would get worse as the day progressed.
Let's go do this! Race day ready. |
The cannon sounded at 10:41 for the women's start. The water was delicious. I grew up swimming in Lake Superior withOUT a wetsuit, so while some competitors found the water cold on the face, it felt wonderful to me. This was quite possibly the best triathlon race-day swim I have experienced. I swam smooth and strong, good sight-lines, found some feet to draft, stayed out of troubled water, and enjoyed the course. The swim back towards transition was into the wind, a bit of chop (nowhere close to the training I did in Lake Winnipeg with 18" waves a couple summers ago!), but still smooth swimming. What a great way to start my race! 1500m went by quickly and smoothly.
Sprint Swim start at Lake Las Vegas |
T1 went okay - it was crowded on the exit ramp so I lost some time, and my wetsuit is always a challenge to strip off (my feet get stuck). Otherwise, I was still in good company with other racers, operating on the "smooth is fast, fast is smooth" principal.
The bike course was busy! I had managed to stay with a good cohort and was able to ride some wheels up the road and first couple of hills. No real bottlenecks as the wide gravel roads accommodated lots of riders. And then the wind hit me. Despite keeping a cold camel back on my back and sipping water, and consuming nutrition, I could feel the energy drain out of me. I kept consuming water and nutrition, hoping to stave off bonking - I had more nutrition in T2, ready and waiting. Lap 2 seemed lonely and empty - I couldn't find other riders, I don't remember when they left me, but suddenly I was riding alone. And it was so windy. The crosswind was dangerous, and the downhills needed pedal power. I was spending energy that I just didn't have. Keep pedalling. The ride down the road to T2 was wobbly, but I made it. I made the bike cutoff - all my worrying was for naught!
T2 was weird, I knew that I needed to put on my running shoes and get moving but couldn't get myself in gear. Somewhere along the way, I realized that someone named Troy was talking to me, assuring me that he was going to take care of me. And then I realized I was in the medical tent and strangers were looking very concerned in my general direction. Apparently I kept falling down in T2, and was wandering around looking lost. They diagnosed heat stroke and pulled me from the race.
I tried to make light of it on Facebook: Canadian girl with alabaster skin and ginger hair + 34C desert heat plus convection oven winds = heat stroke. Heat stroke sucks.
Desert Racing |
DNF is a tough blow: physically the heat stroke left me flat and achey, bloated fingers and dry mouth from all the dehydration, but I will recover; mentally I'm pretty bummed out because that was my big race for the year, but I've already got 2 more races on the books, so I've got a come-back plan.
Watch this space for more exciting race reports over the spring and summer!