Lotoja 2009

DH and I completed our second Logan to Jackson bike race this past Saturday. We did it as a 2-person relay team, like last year, but DH agreed to take the longer leg this year. I didn't do as many long rides this summer as I did last summer because, at the end of June, I decided I wanted to learn how to swim. Once that was taken care of, I entered two triathlons in August.

The weather was warmer than expected, but we both thought it was less windy than last year. DH did the first 125 miles and I did the 81-mile anchor leg.

This year, the 2-person relay teams were scheduled to cross the start line one full hour after we started last year. Coupled with the fact that the race was a week later in 2009, we had over an hour less daylight to finish the race. The finish line closes at 8:15 or dark, whichever comes first, and sunset was scheduled for 7:38. It gets dark fast in the mountains.

DH sped through the first feed zone in Preston, with me running alongside to hand him up a full bottle. By Montpelier, it was quite hot, but he was still making decent time. I was set to begin my ride in Afton. Unfortunately, with the later start time and the heat, DH rolled into Afton an hour and 23 minutes later than last year. Yikes!!! My exchange with DH while switching the timing chip went something like this:

Me: Chip! Chip! The chip! The car is RIGHT THERE! [Pointing.]

(Simultaneously.)

DH: Oh. Ow. Owwwww. Ow. Muscle cramps. Just pulled a paceline. They said, "Herculean pull." Ow. Oh. Ow. Fresh legs. Fresh legs. Go go go! (This last bit as I was pedaling away.)

I headed out fully caffeinated and excited. My heartrate was high, much higher than a normal race pace and I was thinking, "Slow down, sister!" Of course, having started in the hole, and knowing I was burning daylight, I dropped my heartrate only about 2 beats and started to pick off other riders. I did the first 10 miles by myself. Then, a lovely thing happened, a big guy providing on course race support (fixing flats, etc.) rode by on a bicycle with a sort of trailer-like attachment on it. He was pulling a paceline and said, "Hop on!" His big bike made for a great draft, and we cruised through windy Star Valley at speeds in excess of 21 mph. Unfortunately, someone up ahead had a flat and he had to stop to help fix it.

Our paceline came unstuck. I started pulling, but lost all the folks behind me except one woman. We agreed to take turns pulling, but when I bridged the gap to another paceline up ahead, she couldn't hang on. I rode off and on with others, some of whom I dropped and some of whom I could only hang with for a few minutes because I couldn't maintain the pace. 37 miles done and I cruised into the my first feed zone a bit after 5:00. DH gave me a full bottle and a kind woman offered to top off my other bottle with ice water. At this point it was 80 degrees, far hotter than the forecast. DH had reflector ankle bands that he was velcroing around my ankles as the woman refilled my bottle. I had this fleeting thought of "What is he doing?". He also put a blinking light on the back of my bike. DH's parting words were, "You have plenty of time!" Let me go on record as saying THAT was the biggest lie of the day! (And if he thought I had plenty of time, why was he attaching night riding equipment to me and my bike? :rolleyes:)

The next 45 miles were a series of steady climbs with short sections of downhills. It's along the river for quite awhile, and would be pleasant if not for the utter pain!

I knew from last year what this leg of the race had in store for me and I was mentally calculating and recalculating miles per hour, miles remaining, time until sunset, etc. On the more arduous climbs, as I watched my mph drop, I realized there was a good chance I would finish after the race was officially over. I wouldn't let myself think about that, and instead focused on what a great bike route this was, how pretty the Tetons would look as I got closer to Jackson, and that even if I wasn't an official finisher, I would still complete the ride. Random motivational thoughts passed through my head. "Do or do not. There is no try." And the very Lance Amstrong-ish, "Pain is temporary. Quitting is forever."

I passed some more folks, some of whom were so exhausted that they couldn't even muster a grunt or acknowledgement of my cheery, "Howdy!" Of course, most of those folks were doing the entire 206 themselves, so I could understand the lack of banter!

DH stopped along the route to cheer me on, but I was all grim determination at that point. More quick calculations told me I didn't have time to stop for more water or to even use the bathroom. Did I mention that DH put those ankle reflectors on so tight that they left indentations in my legs? They had my ankles in a death grip, but I didn't even feel like I had time to fix the pythonesque straps.

Shortly thereafter, 3 women passed me. Two were wearing team jerseys from a local bike shop. I resolved to hang with them until the end.

I was really suffering at this point. My leg muscles were screaming. However, it wasn't the pain of injury, it was just the pain of an extremely intense effort. I told myself that as much as it hurt, it would hurt even more to ride the rest of the way without the drafting advantages of a group and it would be even more painful to finish after the race was officially over.

It took every fiber of my being to hang on to the wheel of the woman in front of me. After several miles, I passed them on a steep uphill, but I wasn't prepared to try to go it alone. Once they caught back up, I latched on once again.

It was about 7:15 now and I knew it was going to be close. The four of us hung together through the back road turnoff from the highway. After a few more miles, as we were directed onto a bike path, a large paceline came through. The traffic directors were screaming, "Single file! Single file!" I stayed to the right and fought to keep my position near the back. A hairpin turn followed by a steep uphill through a dark underpass fractured the group. I saw "my" women up ahead and realized the two teammates had left behind the other woman. She appeared to be struggling and we were about 10 miles from the finish line. I invited her to draft off of me as I went by and she said, mournfully, "I can't. Just. Can't." I think she finally blew up after keeping up such a high pace for so long. I then rode ahead to the two teammates and made the same offer to have them draft off me and one said, "We'll try." They were spent, however, so I continued on alone. I passed several men and then came upon a guy (in his 60s) who became my rabbit. Every time he accelerated, I went with him. We did a few miles together and, when a small group came by, I hooked up with them. Just then, a pickup truck with a lifesize moose statue in the back drove by. I said, "I think I'm hallucinating!" The woman in front of me said, "Well, if you are, so am I!"

And then I saw it! The sign that said 5K to go! For the last several miles, there had been no pain, just the exhilaration of thinking DH and I might have another official finish. I was on fire, passing everyone I could! In the distance, I could see the shimmering lights of the finish line. The final 3K were a blur! Would the line stay open? I had to take my sunglasses off as it was 7:55 and the sun had set. I sprinted towards the finish and even managed to pass some more people as the crowd cheered and I heard DH's distinctive "WOOHOO!" seconds before I OFFICIALLY finished the race! :D

I got off my bike and said, "That was the hardest thing I have EVER done." Every muscle below my waist was in pain. I nearly fell over after I got off the bike and I couldn't even walk a straight line. DH took my bike and carried my bike shoes as I walked in my socks down the path to our car. I finally had time to stop in the portajohn. Hurrah! Soon, I was shivering and my teeth were chattering, but I was happy.

The finish line officially closed at 8:15, and I finished a few minutes before 8:00, so I had left "plenty" of time on the clock. (Cough, cough.)

It was a very fun day, although quite painful at times. After a hot shower and some dinner, I felt great. I wasn't even sore the next day. I haven't quite figured out how that happened.

As much fun as it is to support one another during individual races and events, DH and I both agree that it is far more fun to do an event together. :)

Alex

Great race report and fantastic accomplishment! I am in awe!

Awesome race report. It sounds exhilarating! (And painful) Cheers to you and your husband, and a great race. Official finish, WOO!

I could read of your account over and over. That ride is intimidating. I hope one day to have enough time to even consider being able to do it. You did an amazing thing. I am proud of your determination, hard training, and YOU!!!

Great job!

Great job Alex- your DH too! Fantastic RR - I felt I was there with you, but in a nicer, less painful way. I also like the "pythonesque' :D description of the reflective bands..made me giggle!