Yup.
This one hurt, though. That 9mi Saturday was with HEED and endurolyte tabs in hand. This was just done off the peanut M&M's I ate at 4pm. The hip started pinching at mile 6, i felt like jello by mile 8. But I did my first 10 ever. I walked only two blocks of it, short ones.
Oh, and my recollections of sunny days on Haines Point totally misled me on this route-- it was creepy how that whole point had two bikers and one other runner on it, and probably only about 3 cars went by. I was thinking about whether people would have a way of identifying my body. Note to self: running through parks after dark equals bad. Though I did see 3 foxes- reddish ones with big straight bushy tails with a touch of white at the end. And yes, I know it wasn't a feral dog... its body was small and its tail as long as its body and straight... I looked closely. I guess it could have been one fox who followed me- they all looked the same. Kinda creepy.
And my empty stomach and thirsty self returned to a hotel where the closest I could get to HEED was a bottle of sweet tea.
Wednesday, December 12
10!
Saturday, December 8
9.2
Nothing is worse than telling yourself you're going to run 10 mi for the first time in your life, then running a really, really long time, and then getting home and finding that according to the gmap-pedometer you only went 9.2.
Tuesday, November 27
how to not like your bike, aka Trans-Iowa.
since we all know i'm good at making lists, i thought one about "what i wish i had known before attempting Trans-Iowa" was in order, especially considering the unbridled enthusiasm folks have for it lately. I'm not saying you shouldn't be enthusiastic. i like my bike too. I'm just saying, maybe these tips will help you... (or maybe my last year's report will mean something...)
1. This part of Iowa is HILLY as hell. As in, get to the top of the hill, look down and see the road drop and rise up again to the height you're at. As in, little ring needed. Or at least, as in, freewheels are your friend.
2. No support means no support. I dropped way early because of flat #5. Prepare for that to happen. Yeah, I could have had my team bring me a kit, but that would be cheating, esp when I agreed to terms of the race at the beginning.
3. On that note, your gear matters. What took me down was a crappy pump, which got me by in the past but in the middle of Iowa wasn't cutting it. Those little things, they add up fast with the gravel-pothole-hill madness.
4. You will be bored. Really bored. And if you're an over-thinking intellectual, this can become quite uncomfortable. Entertainment would be a good idea.
5. There's a certain unquantifiable difficulty to riding gravel roads in the dark. It's like riding trail in the dark, only on a bike that really isn't quite prepared for the potholes. I would recommend getting experience on your bike with the lights you plan to use and make sure you aim them right. Don't forget that you'll need a headlamp or somesuch to read cue cards too, and you'll need an accurate computer to know distance to match the cues to where you are.
6. Get used to how you're going to eat and drink . Guys that finished last year did it by buying what they needed at the approx. every-30-mi quickie marts. Sure beats carrying 20 lb of perpetuem, but you gotta be able to hold it down...
7. I hate to say it, but as a woman I felt really unsafe. I was dropped early on and rode the ~3 hrs till daybreak alone and at one point was harassed by a car full of meatheads who, I realized, could have done ANYTHING to me at that point. Think about what you'll do if you find yourself alone in the night, or who you can get to promise to ride with you.
8. What can you not bring? The dudes that finished last year had just cross bikes with a bottle or two and saddle bag, a definite advantage over my 50lb touring bike n' gear.
9. Have your support driver's number handy. That way you have the option.
10. This is not a supported paved ride. This is gravel, this is unsupported, this is night in the middle of a cornfield, and it's a race so folks will drop you if you ride like i do (slow n' steady). Preparation and practice. And a little reality.
Have fun y'all. I'll be on the 200K that weekend and celebrating my birthday alcohol-free for the first time in, oh, prolly 14 years.
(photo by ben)