Quickly...

Before I move on to more current events, I do want to post a quick note on the Pole Pedal Paddle event from May 17th.

For the record, it was one of the most frantic, heart-pounding, mentally-challenging races I've ever done. All of a sudden, we were racing and then we were done. I was done in 2 hrs and 14 minutes. The winner was done 29 minutes before me. And everyone except one of the four female competitors were between us. (There were 14 men in the racing class and 4 women and we all started together in the first wave)

If you look at the photo from a couple posts ago of us at the starting line, you'll notice everyone is lined up wearing cycling clothes, bike helmets, and ski boots and poles. And no skis. The starting line was about 50 yards down the hill from where our skis were placed. When we started, we ran frantically up the hill, clicked into our downhill skis, and took off down the gated super-G course which was rapidly becoming more slushy in the 70 degree morning air. I'm sure it was quite a sight watching 18 spandex-clad skiers come screaming down the mountain all in a long line.

I came into the nordic exchange in about sixth place, knowing this was where I would lose a huge chunk of time. And there were a few factors invloved here. First, was that before the race started, as I stood there on the starting line sizing up my competition, I realized how serious these guys were and then how magnificently ingenius there are! Many of them were already wearing their nordic boots and had simply buckled their nordic-booted feet inside an empty, rear-entry alpine ski boot shell! Hah! No need to change boots that way. Simply click off the downhill skis, unbuckle the one and only buckle on the alpine boots, remove pre-nordic-booted foot, and presto! Click into nordic skis and you're off! So I, with my clunky four buckle alpine boots to change out of and my funky little nordic boots to change into, would be losing minutes just at the exchange. And that wasn't even the biggest part...

I'm just not a very good nordic skier. I mean, I can do it. But it's alot of work for me and sometimes I don't feel like I have much control. This past winter as I did it more and more, I would still lose my balance and crash spectacularly for no apparent reason. So there I was, 100 yards down the gentle slope of the nordic course, in front of the gathering of spectators, skidding to a halt on my spandexed arse in a clumsy tangle of akward nordic skis and poles. I got up, refusing to let the feelings of embarrasment even have a chance (which I knew they wanted to) and took off along the snow again with my tail between my legs. Then I crashed again on a fast icy rolling section in the trees and scraped the skin off the outside of my left shin, left thigh, and multiple knuckles on both hands. The spill also released the buckle on my left ski boot. Now I was severely dismayed. I just wanted it to be over. But I kept pushing on. I had already been passed by most everyone during the alpine/nordic exchange. I got passed by a couple more on the nordic leg and was fairly certain I was securely in last place among both the men and the women. Two of the women and two of the men passed me on the nordic leg like I was standing still. 'Wait til the bike you dainty little nordic skiers', I thought as I wobbled my bloodied, dismal, drooling and gasping self up the hill to the nordic/bike exchange. Ignoring the stares of everyone around me wondering who this bumbling racer was that was coming into the exchange 10 or 15 minutes after the main group after such a short little 8k nordic loop, I stumbled over to my newly altered bike and prepared for the chase. 'Ok, it's on now!'

The day before the race, I had stopped by a local bike shop and outfitted my road bike with a couple neat new features for the sole purpose of going downhill very fast: A new 11-23 cassette, a new 56 tooth chainring, and a set of aerobars. No, I didn't have the disk wheels, three-spoke, carbon fiber wheels, and $5,000 time trial bikes of some of the guys, but at least I can say I tried and I feel it helped. I caught two ladies and two guys by the time I finished the bike leg and right at the end, I got passed by a guy who apparently had been behind me since the very beginning of the event! Where'd he come from?! Why didn't he catch me on the skate skis?! Wha???!!! You mean I wasn't last?!

So then came the 10k run. And I had placed my shoes at the farthest possible place away from where the bike/run exchange was because I had to set them out earlier in the morning before there were any race officials there to direct me to a good spot to put them and I didn't know where to go. So after handing my bike off to a race official, I ran in my socks 50 yards in the opposite direction, got my running shoes on and ran back to begin the run. The people I had passed on the bike leg had caught back up to me. 'Sigh...'

The run felt awful. It took a long time to run that 10k. Not sure how long, but long. I didn't catch anyone, I didn't get caught by anyone. And then, there it was, my stubby little boat among the long, sleek racing kayaks. And I was toast. Somehow, someway, there were more people behind me that caught me in the water. All but one of the ladies. And by the time I finished, I was so exhausted and dehydrated and bloody and sore. I just wanted to go back to the house and clean up and rest. But my car was still up at the ski resort. So... after no luck finding a ride up there, I got back on my bike and rode the 22 miles, 2,500 feet up into a headwind to get the car. Then I drove back into town, retrieved my boat, retrieved my ski gear which had been gathered up and brought down the mountain by the race officials, drove across town to return my rented boat (stopping for a 28 oz pepsi slurpee along the way), then finally driving back to the house I was staying at to get cleaned up and vomit the 28 oz pepsi slurpee into the toilet.

Wait til next year...

(By the way, Joe and I ended up not climbing Mt. Hood that weekend due to a freezing level at 15,000 feet and slushy unstable snow conditions all the way up the mountain. But I was able to meet up with Dr. Trevor for an awesome 6am run in Forest Park Monday morning before I left Portland. Watching the sun come up and shine through the trees during our 1 hour trail run was a fantastic way to start the day. I didn't want to drive the 11 hours back to Victor.)