Deer Trail I signed up for with the intention of just working as hard as I could and helping myself be in race shape. A friend referred to a low priority race as an "F-race" (we usually classify races as A, B, and C - like school grades) and this was so low on my list. I did it because I knew it was good for me.
We came through the first few miles in a small group. Not going very hard, but the hills were definitely difficult for me. I tried my best to hang on but one girl started pushing the pace up a steeper gradient and completely blew the pack apart. Half of us were off the back fewer than 10 miles in. With a group of only 11 to start with, this seemed like a silly decision to me but...whatever. A woman who fell off before me caught up to me after the turn around and we spent a few miles working together and chasing her teammate who was dropped ahead of us. We came into the turn and she powered up a hill and dropped me. I told her she was dropping me. She chose to ride the remaining 26 miles alone. Again, not what I would do but...whatever.
And so began my 26-mile, tired, exhausted, aching time trial. However, nearing the second turn around, I saw the group had gotten blown apart even more. All but a pack of 4 women who pulled off the front had been strung off the back. 7 of us were in TT mode for at least 20 miles of the race. Lame.
After about 30 miles, I popped and was just completed exhausted. We crossed the finish line (which we had to turn around and come back to to actually finish) at 36 miles. My feet were numb because I need to adjust by cleats on my shoes. It was coming up to my calves and into my hamstrings. I thought about pulling out. I knew I was last. I saw another woman on another team had turned around and DNF'd. I considered it more seriously. But I told myself it was stupid to give up with 8 miles left. I did this race intentionally to kick my butt and push my fitness. I had to finish. I'm glad I did because seeing my teammate win the SW3 race and cheer my remaining teammates in was really awesome. I know those 8 miles will be what I call on when the going gets tough.
Crossing that finish line felt really good. It was easily one of the most exhausted moments in my life. I had 5 miles back to the car and the start finish. After a mile of that cool down, I pulled my feet, numb and tingling, out of my shoes and rode on top of them, true to my triathlon roots. (haha)
I know this race was a beast to many of my teammates. I can't say I think I'll ever go back but at least for now I pushed beyond my limits.
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