in the middle of a day long library conference about transitional readers, it finally hit me how much fun I had racing Sea Otter.
I haven't actually done a real race report about my XC race. Mostly because there wasn't too much to say except I pedaled forever, it was hard, and I finished. I bonked at the end, so I was feeling really bad as I stumbled to the bella-kona tent hoping that I could poach some food even though I had only been a bella for maybe a few hours at the most. I figured they would be too polite to say "look just cause you volunteered for a few hours doesn't mean you can come eat our food. That's for the real racers!" However, my stomach was growling, my head was swimmy and I was on the verge of bonking in a very bad, nasty way so I was willing to risk socially acceptable polite behavior for a banana and some gatorade. I needed something to eat, and very quickly. But the bellas were very kind , and Laura who has to be some kind of bike angel, treated me like I was Marla Streb reincarnated just for finishing.
Making my way back to my car everyone I ran into kept asking "but you had fun, right? It was hard, but fun?" And I wanted to be positive, because I knew all the bad stuff would pass and I would get to the point where I could look back at what I did and be proud. But at the moment, no, it was not fun. I was cold, and wet, and so very beyond tired, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a shivery little ball, and let my husband take over. Fun in relation to mountain biking seem a very distant concept.
Then after racing Sunday there were a few days of recovery when my body was giving me grief for pushing it a little too far, and there was laundry, and more rain and no fun. The best I could say when people asked me about my weekend and my race was "yeah, it was okay" while thinking, that if I never saw another Sea Otter my life would still be complete.
Yesterday, 2:17 pm. The sun shone warm, blue skies dazzled and spring called out. I was sitting in a huge conference room surrounded by other childrens librarians, and as I pretended to pay attention to the speaker and the importance of transitional books for the relunctant reader, I felt the unmistakable tug of the trail, and I found myself back at Sea Otter.
...geez o pete, that sandy section was tricky, but I bet I could nail it with a little practice...
...I can't believe how easy that singletrack was, I was totally passing those other girls on the downhill...
...I can't believe I climbed that hill, I can't wait to try it again...
...I bet if I had been a little more prepared, nutrition wise, I could have stayed strong on the bike until the end...
...Next year I'm going to rock that course...
Next year.
Yesterday afternoon, 2:20 pm. I settled back in my seat, a smile playing over my lips. Sea Otter was hard. But, I had fun.
I haven't actually done a real race report about my XC race. Mostly because there wasn't too much to say except I pedaled forever, it was hard, and I finished. I bonked at the end, so I was feeling really bad as I stumbled to the bella-kona tent hoping that I could poach some food even though I had only been a bella for maybe a few hours at the most. I figured they would be too polite to say "look just cause you volunteered for a few hours doesn't mean you can come eat our food. That's for the real racers!" However, my stomach was growling, my head was swimmy and I was on the verge of bonking in a very bad, nasty way so I was willing to risk socially acceptable polite behavior for a banana and some gatorade. I needed something to eat, and very quickly. But the bellas were very kind , and Laura who has to be some kind of bike angel, treated me like I was Marla Streb reincarnated just for finishing.
Making my way back to my car everyone I ran into kept asking "but you had fun, right? It was hard, but fun?" And I wanted to be positive, because I knew all the bad stuff would pass and I would get to the point where I could look back at what I did and be proud. But at the moment, no, it was not fun. I was cold, and wet, and so very beyond tired, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a shivery little ball, and let my husband take over. Fun in relation to mountain biking seem a very distant concept.
Then after racing Sunday there were a few days of recovery when my body was giving me grief for pushing it a little too far, and there was laundry, and more rain and no fun. The best I could say when people asked me about my weekend and my race was "yeah, it was okay" while thinking, that if I never saw another Sea Otter my life would still be complete.
Yesterday, 2:17 pm. The sun shone warm, blue skies dazzled and spring called out. I was sitting in a huge conference room surrounded by other childrens librarians, and as I pretended to pay attention to the speaker and the importance of transitional books for the relunctant reader, I felt the unmistakable tug of the trail, and I found myself back at Sea Otter.
...geez o pete, that sandy section was tricky, but I bet I could nail it with a little practice...
...I can't believe how easy that singletrack was, I was totally passing those other girls on the downhill...
...I can't believe I climbed that hill, I can't wait to try it again...
...I bet if I had been a little more prepared, nutrition wise, I could have stayed strong on the bike until the end...
...Next year I'm going to rock that course...
Next year.
Yesterday afternoon, 2:20 pm. I settled back in my seat, a smile playing over my lips. Sea Otter was hard. But, I had fun.
2 comments:
yay for the spring sun to cheer you up
well done ... that was one mutha of a XC course.
yays all-around.
~
Post a Comment