WHEWWW! What a weekend. It was a double header, race-wise that is.

So I'll start with this morning. Currently, it is raining outside, yes folks, that is right, rain! I am sitting in my bed in sweat pants with my guitar and thinking about taking a nap. This morning I ran the XTerra Mission Gorge 15K Trail Race. I have to say this takes the cake as one of the toughest races (of any kind) that I have ever participated in - right up there with the Donner Lake triathlon. I signed up for this race a few weeks back, only because I needed to get in a 100-minute training run this weekend and I got an e-mail from the SD tri club listserve about it - A discount for tri club members, and hey, I love trail running! I used to run down the PG&E trail in Rancho San Antonio back when I lived in the Bay. This happens to be one of my favorite runs so I envisioned this as I signed up. I glanced at the profile map and though, a bit hilly, but not more so than Rancho. Ha ha ha ha ha - How wrong I was!!!
I had gone to bed last night at 9:30 - lame for a Saturday night but I was tired after yesterday's bike race (more on that in a minute). I got up this morning at 6:15 and headed out to the race. The scene was one I hadn't experienced in awhile. Only the most hard-cores - Not your traditional weekend warrior and recreational 5K joggers at this one. Started to sense impending danger... The race director held a pre-race meeting and urged us several times to be careful on the descent. Strange, but how bad can it be? The race started promptly at 8. It was cloudy and looked like it may start raining. The temperature was good - comfortable enough to run in sleeves and shorts.
We took off towards the hills. I thought it strange that many people hung to the back of the pack (myself included). Usually everyone takes off like a bat out of hell. We instantly started to climb. Hmm that's strange I thought to myself. I remember seeing the dinky hill on the profile map at the beginning of the race. HA HA HA HA HA. After 3 miles I wanted to shoot myself. We kept climbing up the mountain. It this point it looked like Everest (minus the snow). The whole pack was hiking up (not running mind you). My sciatic nerve was pinching and screaming, fuck you, fuck you, over and over again. Finally, we reach the top as I realize in horror how big the "hill" at mile 5 must be....
Continuing on now, glancing at my watch, I chuckle as I realize my image of a leisurely trail run at 9/10 minute-mile pace have evaporated. I'll be lucky if I finish this thing in 2 hours and with all limbs intact. Kept on running. All along the trail, there were rangers pointing us in the right direction, moreso as the pack spread into a trickle of one runner here and there, ever so often. Each ranger kind of gave me this half-smile, when I know each of them was thinking "Hey dipshit, you do this for fun? What the hell is wrong with you?" I reached an aid station and grabbed some gatorade from some funny looking dudes blasting heavy metal - That's more like it I thought. I turned to the left and saw something that made my heart stop. A long trickle of runners streaming up a monster mountain as far as the eye could see - tinier and tinier they grew. Holy Shit. I flashed back to the Donner Lake tri. I was on my bike, wrongly informed that is was an easy course - Elevation 6500 - No elevation training - Biking up Donner Peak. Kept thinking must level out soon, until I saw the teenie tiny cyclist at the top of Donner Peak. Oh Shit. The aid station dudes chuckled as I mumbled to myself and the guy next to me "this looks like fun!". I knew I was at mile-5.
The next mile sucked. Up and up I went. I am sure it's a great view, but given the incoming rain, it was in a hazy fog. The trail turns to stairs. The course map calls this part of the trail, 1000 stairs. I'm not sure if there were a thousand. There could have been a million. All I know is that they go straight up FOREVER. My body screamed at me - Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. You are a dipshit. You do this for fun? Are you fucking stupid? All I could hear was the irregular rhythm of my lungs sucking in at the air, gasping for more oxygen to send to my poor screwed muscles. I reached a false top. Then turned and headed up again. Finally, this torture subsided. We were heading down the mountain. It was hard to get any real speed as the trail was super steep, rocky and slippery and I didn't want to slip and break some bone after all of this ridiculous training, just 7 weeks before my race.
The next 4 miles went up and down up and down, despite what the fucking elevation map shows. I questioned myself as a sane individual. Towards mile 7 I met up with another runner. We got to talking a bit in between gasps. I learned that she had completed her first Ironman (full) last year. Hmm - inspiration! I suddenly didn't feel as slow and unworthy at the back of the pack on this insane race through hell. The last mile was flat. I finally saw the finish line - I'm sure I was minutes away from seeing a vision of Jesus or Moses or something crazy, but I made it. And yes, the damn race took me over 2 hours. So much for a nice easy trail run! I grabbed some free eggs, muffins and water and headed off to my car. By this time it had started to rain and I was soaked from sweat and mist. I covertly changed in my car and headed home for a nice hot shower. And here I am!
Yesterday was a good day. I got up at 4:15 to meet Rana to drive to Palm Springs. We didn't actually get out on the road until 5:30. Needless to say, we were a bit late getting Palm Springs. After grabbing our gear, checking in and such, we started the race (along with hundreds other, I might add) at 8:20 or so - 20 minutes late. Oh well. I started off slow. We kept having to stop at lights. I was getting pissed. I wanted to keep at least a 15 mph pace (just like I intend to do for Ironman). After about 7 miles or so we were out in the desert. I decided to go for it and bumped it up a notch. After a while I realized that Rana wasn't with me anymore and so I bumped it up even more. The course was pretty fast and easy (besides all of the people). I kept it up between 18-21 mph most of the way (except in town where I had to stop every frigin light). I felt pretty comfortable - I could have even gone faster I think. Anyways, finished up the 56-miles in about 4 hours. Felt pretty good! Sat out in the sunshine with the Lemond, chugged gatorade and waited for Rana. I ended up with the most fabulous tan lines from my bike shorts, watch and sun glasses. It looks pretty hot!
The rest of last week's training was uneventful. Ran on Tuesday night - Very exciting. Wednesday biked in front of my TV for a few hours and watched movie (was ultra pissed off after field trip to El Barrio to retreive towed car)... Thursday swam in the a.m. - Skipped run in the evening after going to bed at 6:30 pm for fear of impending cold. Friday was day off!
This week is week 12, which means recovery week!! WOO HOO! Week 13 begins the speed and "quality" phase of training, whatever the hell that means. Oh well, guess I'll find out soon! I have gotta go to bed now. Later Gator! :)