It took a few days to recover from my double race week-end. Three running legs in the River-to-River Relay each approximating the effort of a 5K. Followed the next day by a run-bike-run sprint duathlon effort at the Eads Bridge Duathlon. That is a lot of early season Zone 4, going lactic, speediness. 1:59:32 total, approximately.
The weather seemed custom made for racing. My team of eight runners, formally called "Riding in a Van Down by the River", piled into the aforementioned van in the darkness before the dawn to drive to a remote part of Southern Illinois near the Mississippi (River #1). As 6th runner (the runner with the third leg deemed "The Hardest", a result of a stock exchange style leg switcharoo the night before), I had time to chill and cheer before my first leg... But not too long. It was time to warm-up before I had time to digest my oatmeal. Nothing to be done. My team was moving along quickly!
And so would my first leg. What stands out most prominently in my mind was that I had my warm-ups off before my teammate came into sight (this did not happen last year, wardrobe malfunction), and I engaged in a little pre-race ribbing with the two older gentlemen lined up with me. As luck would have it, we all got the hand-off within a minute of each other, but I used the early hills to pull away. One leg down.
In a relay race, I have to pay close attention to food. I want cookies and a soda (offered at many an exchange) but I stick to wheat thins, fruit snacks, and water. It's not like fueling on a bike ride where a Snickers bar often accompanies me on the miles. Or one of my relay teammates who chugged a Coke Classic after every leg. Anything more pre-race, and I will be making more trips to the Honey Bucket than I want. By leg two I felt fast again, energized to race. The day was going well; everyone was finishing with a smile, and we knew we were putting up fast times.
A few teams from the seeded wave (groups of collegiate men!), caught up to us, pulling into the exchanges as we are pulled out in the van. It was only a matter of time. At the line for my second exchange, one of their runners was wearing Superman underwear and a cape. I had to stay in front of that guy! After I took the baton, on a lonely country road, all by myself, I sensed a car just behind me, following close, and maintaining my pace. My first thought was, "I must be looking good. This car is checking me out." Or, quite possibly, my delirious narcissism notwithstanding, it could have been the lead vehicle for the seeded wave. Right, definitely the lead vehicle. But, 2.5 miles at 5:58/mile kept me in front of The Superman.
And then there was "The Hardest", deemed by race management to be the most difficult of the 32 legs. 3.8 miles of nearly all uphill goodness (415 ft of gain). I ran this leg last year, so I knew what was in store, and all I can say is that I pushed my tired, not-to-sturdy, burning-with-the-flames-of-a-thousand-lactic-acid-induced fires legs along "The Hardest" leg with more speed then I deemed possible, (6:30/mile!). Faster than last year. Woah!
Two short legs later, and we were finished, in record time... I use "record" here to loosely refer to a time faster than any other River-2-River team I have been on to date. And we demolished the corporate handicap division!
But no time to celebrate (okay a little time to celebrate with the best BBQ East of the Mississippi), I had another race to do the next morning. Really. Really.
The weather seemed custom made for racing. My team of eight runners, formally called "Riding in a Van Down by the River", piled into the aforementioned van in the darkness before the dawn to drive to a remote part of Southern Illinois near the Mississippi (River #1). As 6th runner (the runner with the third leg deemed "The Hardest", a result of a stock exchange style leg switcharoo the night before), I had time to chill and cheer before my first leg... But not too long. It was time to warm-up before I had time to digest my oatmeal. Nothing to be done. My team was moving along quickly!
And so would my first leg. What stands out most prominently in my mind was that I had my warm-ups off before my teammate came into sight (this did not happen last year, wardrobe malfunction), and I engaged in a little pre-race ribbing with the two older gentlemen lined up with me. As luck would have it, we all got the hand-off within a minute of each other, but I used the early hills to pull away. One leg down.
In a relay race, I have to pay close attention to food. I want cookies and a soda (offered at many an exchange) but I stick to wheat thins, fruit snacks, and water. It's not like fueling on a bike ride where a Snickers bar often accompanies me on the miles. Or one of my relay teammates who chugged a Coke Classic after every leg. Anything more pre-race, and I will be making more trips to the Honey Bucket than I want. By leg two I felt fast again, energized to race. The day was going well; everyone was finishing with a smile, and we knew we were putting up fast times.
A few teams from the seeded wave (groups of collegiate men!), caught up to us, pulling into the exchanges as we are pulled out in the van. It was only a matter of time. At the line for my second exchange, one of their runners was wearing Superman underwear and a cape. I had to stay in front of that guy! After I took the baton, on a lonely country road, all by myself, I sensed a car just behind me, following close, and maintaining my pace. My first thought was, "I must be looking good. This car is checking me out." Or, quite possibly, my delirious narcissism notwithstanding, it could have been the lead vehicle for the seeded wave. Right, definitely the lead vehicle. But, 2.5 miles at 5:58/mile kept me in front of The Superman.
And then there was "The Hardest", deemed by race management to be the most difficult of the 32 legs. 3.8 miles of nearly all uphill goodness (415 ft of gain). I ran this leg last year, so I knew what was in store, and all I can say is that I pushed my tired, not-to-sturdy, burning-with-the-flames-of-a-thousand-lactic-acid-induced fires legs along "The Hardest" leg with more speed then I deemed possible, (6:30/mile!). Faster than last year. Woah!
Two short legs later, and we were finished, in record time... I use "record" here to loosely refer to a time faster than any other River-2-River team I have been on to date. And we demolished the corporate handicap division!
But no time to celebrate (okay a little time to celebrate with the best BBQ East of the Mississippi), I had another race to do the next morning. Really. Really.
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