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Goats, Grizzly and Glory Hole

All my ironman training may not have paid off the way I wanted it to in Arizona last month. But it seems to be kicking in now.

I spent the past week basking in how good I felt after last weekend's Grizzly Peak Century. A few friends and I rode the shorter version of the century, a 73-mile ride with 5,800 feet of climbing, last Sunday. I rode this course a year ago and suffered immensely. Back then I wasn't in great riding shape, I had been told we were riding only 50 miles, and I was carrying 35+ more pounds on my body than I am now. I was the lanterne rouge all day and was miserable about it. Last weekend, exactly a year later, I felt like I was floating up the hills as I passed people. I am not a climber. I do not pass people on hills. I don't pass typical mountain-goat Bay Area cyclists, anyway. Certainly not on McEwen Road or the Three Bears. I had a delightlful day riding with good friends and I enjoyed every minute of it. And not just because there were well-stocked rest stops with homemade cookies.

So during the week I decided to race a little sprint triathlon this weekend. The Angels Camp triathlon is a small, low-key race in the Sierra foothills. Angels Camp is a gold-rush-era mining town, and the race info instructed us to look for the Glory Hole entrance to the park where the race would be held.

I have done this race once before, back in 2001, my first year racing triathlons. Back then I finished the 1000-yard swim/14-mile bike/4-mile run in 2:18. I was really curious to see how much faster I could go. I figured I'd finish in about 1:50.

Here's the short report: I finished in 1:41. And I won my age group. And I had FUN.

I have never won my age group in a triathlon before. Yeah, it was a small race, it's not like I won my AG at the Escape From Alcatraz, but still, I was the fastest out of the 17 women aged 30-39. And I was the 6th woman out of 50 total.

I came out of the water in about 13 minutes (that was not 1000 yards -- more like 700-800). The water level in the reservoir was pretty low and we had to run about a quarter mile up the very steep boat ramp. It got the blood flowing to my legs, that's for sure. I got on my bike and realized I had completely forgotten in seven years how hilly the bike course was. But what goes up must come down, right? I think I averaged about 18.5mph on a pretty tough course with lots of rollers and one giant hill.

About eight miles into the ride a spectator told me "you're the fifth woman." Wha? I have never heard the words "You're the ___ woman" in a race before. Those are words fast people hear. It gave me a kick in the pants for sure; suddenly I didn't want to lose valuable places. (Although I think I was actually sixth at that point, but whatever.) Two women did pass me on the ride, both in their 40s, both total badasses, and they both beat me by several minutes in the end.

The run also was much hillier than I remembered. It started with about half a mile of climbing to get out of the parking lot onto the pretty singletrack trails. I pushed it, although I never felt like I was moving very fast. I was working really hard but also enjoying the lovely trails. I knew the suffering would be over soon, and that allowed me to take in the surroundings (and watch for the rattlesnakes we had been warned about) despite huffing and puffing like a locomotive.

With a mile to go, I spotted a woman ahead of me and knew I could catch her. When I came within striking distance I knew I had to crush her to keep her from passing me back, so I sprinted past while trying to make it look effortless. As I passed her she saw that we were in the same age group and cursed under her breath. Heh. I ended up finishing about 35 seconds ahead of her. (I thanked her later for making me work so hard.)

My friend Liz, whom I convinced to come race with me before she leaves for the Arctic Circle next week, was 2nd in the women's 40-49 AG. We unintentionally wore matching race outfits, which was pretty hilarious to discover as we pulled off our warm pre-race clothes.

So ironman training is good for more than just racing ironman races. After racing my first IM I realized that putting in the long hours makes the shorter races seem way more fun. Not really easier, because shorter races involve a completely different type of pain, but it puts the suffering in perspective.

It makes me wonder, though. If I trained for short distance races, did more training at a higher intensity, maybe I could get to be pretty good at them. Just maybe. Huh.

(I took the photo of the goats while spinning up one of the Three Bears during the Grizzly Peak ride. Baaaaaaa.)

May 11, 2008 7:13 PM