LC du worlds wrap-up

after the race on sunday i told FMC to beat me with a shovel if i ever talked about racing long-course duathlon again. 2 days later my legs are still just as sore and that statement's still valid. somewhat. okay ask me tomorrow.

in short, it was a beautiful day, the courses were fun, the race was well-organised, and i finished 11th amateur F and 5th in my age group. could have done better, but isn't that usually the case?

my folks were an invaluable support crew: they navigated and drove the technical, convoluted bike course while i studied it from the passenger seat until i could play the entire 18K loop in my head. they filled my gas tank, found the grocery store and stocked me with bananas and gluten-free cookies, and they tracked the number of women in my age group ahead of me during the race. all i had to do was run and ride my bike some.

first run leg was 2 laps of a 7.5K course. i went out relaxed, with no intention of sticking with anyone. felt confident and strong, though i wobbled a bit when a heavy panter decided she was going to stick on my left shoulder. i couldn't hear my own breathing over her locomotion, and was i imagining that every 20sec or so she'd under her breath say "good job" to herself? to me? or was it "huzzah"? "gotcha"? whatever it was, she was negging my groove and i wished she'd give me some space. everytime i passed other runners i'd slot in front of them just to be free of her for a bit but she'd always glom back on. i finally shook her at a water stop and enjoyed the blessed silence.

the run course was fairly flat, with some cobbled and some sandy sections along the canal. it was in a sandy section that i came upon one of the physically disabled racers bogged down in his wheelchair while runners filed by. "little help here!" he called. "what do you need?" i asked, "a push?" "push, push!" he responded. so i pushed, hoping that i would not flip him over a bump and into the canal like that OJ scene in Naked Gun. i pushed and then a chick behind me pushed and later a course marshal pushed and wheelchair dude eventually finished the race in a grueling 7.5 hours.

finished the first run in 12th place and after a clean transition hit the first of 4 loops of the bike, which started with a short climb, followed by a screaming descent then a deadstop into a headwind on a bridge across the james river. very rude. very painful way to start 2.5 hours of riding, especially when the legs which performed so well running just aren't giving it up for the bike and you are passed by half a dozen women moving so fast you wonder if they've got the same headwind you do. give it a couple miles, i told myself, and the legs will come 'round. but they never did, and a course that promised to be so fun -- technical, twisty and varied -- turned out to be a sufferfest. a clanking noise down by my cranks grew louder and louder. maybe my bottom bottom bracket will fall out, i thought, and then i can stop, but no such luck. i measured time by gels consumed, and when i finally schlumped off the bike after the 4th lap i could barely run to transition.

but legs that were so unresponsive on the bike perked up for the second run. i don't know how it's possible to feel good running while sucking so badly on the bike, but i pulled it off. i passed a ton of people on that second run, downing gatorade and showering myself with water at the aid stations; the day was heating up and some people were cramping, beginning to walk. i collected a couple age group spots on that second run, but even had i run 4min miles there was still no way to make up for the 15-20min i lost on the bike. but stuff happens, you know? -and you cross the finish line at the world championships, the announcer pronounces your name CORRECTLY for once, and there are bottles of gatorade and bags of salted peanuts and your family and that is enough.

thanks to all who offered good wishes.

now, it's SofaTime.