An easier training week didn't seem to equate to more time to relax and find my inner zen (yes, I am getting my excuses in early). At least I can't complain about being bored. This weekend I ticked off my fifth twelve hour solo. Funny to think that the first time I completed one of these events, I asked the first person I saw when I crossed the line to never let me do that to myself again.* Yet, here I am blogging about racing another one.
It's amazing to see how the physiological stresses placed on a body allows it to become more finely honed at adapting to future similar stresses. It took me a long time to eat much of anything and an even longer time to get back on the bike after the Torq In Your Sleep event in 2009. Fast forward to yesterday's effort and demolishing cheesecake, hamburger and fries, bacon and eggs, hot chocolate, normal chocolate, chocolate chip cookies, Mexican stack, chicken biryani and a naan bread in less than 24 hours has been done with such ease that I also had time to do the ironing for the week and drink coffee. While my nutrition sponsor may be horrified by the news (did I mention my pre race pizza?) she was heartened by the beetroot, quinoa and almond salad I had for my lunch on Friday. I'm pretty sure those power foods and a diet coke cancel the rest out.
Before this turns into the Food Channel, I'd better cobble together a race report of some fashion.
This year's Day Night Thriller was held on a somewhat condensed course allowing everyone to get cosy on the 4.2 kilometre circuit. I tried my best to be an awesome role model and offer inspirational commentary to fellow racers along with the pleasantries of "Pardon me kind sir, but would you be so gentlemanly as to let a lady pass at the next most convenient opportunity?" in an appropriately polite British accent, but after sixty minutes or so was reduced to grunts of "On your right, fella".
The deceptively flat course provided 4,100m of climbing over the twelve hour proceedings including a nasty short sharp pinch which my quads liked more than my hamstrings. Accordingly, I resorted to out of the saddle grunting (yes, more grunting...this is a twelve hour race, grunting is mandatory) for the last eight hours. The pit area was conveniently placed close to the sharp pinch so onlookers could share the experience.
There were several peeps there giving it a nudge before popping over the Tasman for the World 24 Hour Championships, including a very cool and very speedy man from Dunedin called Matt Lees. Not only did Matt make the whole thing look pretty easy, he even had time to chat with me for half a lap sometime after 8pm about how our races had gone. While we were still racing. On his way to clocking up 60 laps.
Mine had gone well. I only stopped moving forward from start to finish for two reasons. The first was a large guy riding into me sideways. The second was when I rode over a course marker peg. The guy behind me saw both incidents, which happened within ten minutes of each other, and commented on my temporary lack of good luck. Quite on the contrary, somehow I managed to ride over a pig tail course marker peg, which had had the tape long since ripped out of it, with such finesse that it spearheaded the lower part of the rear mech cage and was relatively easily removed (once I worked it out and stopped thinking, "Oh cr*p, this is not good") without any damage to any moving parts. Talk about lucky. Luckier would have been seeing the damn thing before riding over it. And the large guy avoiding me. But such is racing. Everything else was done on the fly while riding so I could spend more time riding, while keeping the fuel tank topped up so I could keep riding more. I think I'm starting to get the hang of this endurance racing game. Job done.
As well as Ryan, there were many other impressive efforts from team and solo riders. Too many to mention here. But big ups to everyone who took part.
Time to grab forty winks.
*I do realise that I left that bit out from last week's inspirational piece.
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