Lets just say I kinda got sodomized at the 24hrs of Moab (Photos). We (duo pro/expert) finished fuckin mid pack in what had to be one of my worst performances yet. What happens when you take a poor Canadian sap down to the desert? He gets fuckin' heat stroke, that's what. After my first lap all liquids went through me like as faster than a fat kid can eat a cheese burger. Shit me, or rather the water I was shitting between laps. Miso soup got me a bit back on track (thanks to Deb and the the cool support crew), but wow does dehydration thing knock you down a couple pegs. Not to mention the resulting leg cramps. There were so bad I couldn't walk, all I could do was ride. Actually I couldn't even coast because my legs would instantly cramp in any position including completely extended. What about stretching inbetween laps? No go, as some other muscle would instantly cramp when I did that, but on a bright note the cramping was symmetrical.
Talk about being in a bad way. I have never in my life felt so fucked up, even when doing Ironman. Hell, not only did I want to quit the race, but I wanted to quit racing entirely... wow that's kinda cool, I have never had that experience before. I got back on track a bit around 3 am, during my triple up in the night. Ana was kickin' ass earlier on but fucked her calve muscle on one of the laps. I really really didn't want to ride more but hey what can you do. The whole thing ended up being about survival for me, it felt like a frickin' miracle that I could even turn the cranks.
But the real irony about the situation was the whole thing was totally my fault too. Feeling indestructible we went out partying at the Chili pepper bike shop prior to the race. They had REAL beer, none of that crappy 3.2% water you usually get in Utah and about 5 pints later we decided to call it a night without any real dinner. I think that is where I went wrong, should have stuck to the Utah beer like previous years. Oh well, you live and learn, and this year I learned I am about as tough as ornery as a little school girl. Damn!
And as for the mystery girl I did the race with. Ana was cool and had a kick ass dog named chief, who slept alot, but she was rather intense to race with to say the least. This year you had to swipe these cards as you logged in. You hand the baton, swip out the lap, next person swips in and gets the baton. Ana nearly strangled me 3 times by grabbing the lanyard my card was on and pulling it over to the place you swipe in, while I was still on my bike trying to hand over the baton. Wow, chill a little. Then when she royally fucked her calve muscle I ended up pulling 3 laps in a row. Fair enough, these laps sucked because I was slow trying to recover from my earlier bought of diarrhea and cramps (not to mention one of these fuckers was an insane 2.5hr hell night lap where I had every technical difficulty known to man). After that shit she had said should would try and double up afterwards, so I took a nap. Then she comes into camp yelling at me after one lap. Why wasn't I there to relieve her. Fuck I thought she was doin' two laps. Oh well so I start to get changed, but I am not quick enough so she goes off on the second one. Wow, ok. Good thing too, by then I was in no condition to go out again. I could have done it if the win was on the line, but it sure as shit wasn't. And honestly, I had 7 more days of fun riding after this race. No reason to kill myself to move up from 13th to 12th. Ah, but then again maybe I am just a lazy Canadian.
So am I whining about this? Your damn right. So would I do it all again? Your damn right, where do I sign?