This morning my coach ran with me for the 5ks to the turnaround for my 10k run, during which we chatted mainly about his latest adventure at the Speights Coast to Coast in New Zealand.
Andy has been an unofficial mentor throughout my Ironman journey and I always love hearing about his races. He's always a step or two ahead of me (and in this case I think he's gone somewhere that I'll never go). It ain't called coast to coast for nothing - you literally run, ride, run, ride, kayak, and run from one side of New Zealand to the other. I know, NZ isn't THAT big a place - 243kms across in fact - but still... It's huge.
For Andy, the experience had been a good one overall, but I think he feels he has unfinished business, as inclement weather gave the organisers little choice but to alter the traditional route quite substantially. A lot less paddling, a lot more riding. He said it ended up being kind of an Ironman in reverse - 35k mountain trail run, 140k bike, 20k paddle. There was, though a 3k run and 55k bike tacked on the front.
As I finished my session and drove out of the uni, I saw Bryn, on his beloved bike Jake the Snake. Bryn had also taken on the Coast to Coast, carrying an injury that he thought might count him out. The course changes didn't alter the fact that he would have to battle to finish.
He told me he valued his the finishers medal from this race more than any other, because he'd had no choice but to slog it out. He'd made one of the course cutoffs by only 45 minutes, something that's all too familiar to the Athletic Powerhouse, but not to an actual powerhouse like Bryn.
Before I knew what I was saying, I welcomed him to the club. I hope he didn't take it the wrong way; after all - it wasn't about me. At all. But at that moment, I felt like Bryn had perhaps had a race experience similar to some of the ones I've had - wondering whether I'd make the cutoffs, and in some cases, whether I'd make it even at all!
I've often pondered whether others who compete at a different level to me could ever understand that I'm grateful for this experience. After all, if all I wanted was a bit of exercise, I could take a more routine approach and start a netball team with my friends. But that wouldn't give me the chance to really test myself; to challenge what's 'normal'; and to prove to myself that anything is possible.
On hearing about my friends' experiences at Coast to Coast, I'm convinced that this kind of sentiment is a personal thing. Andy and Bryn did the same race on the same day. But they had vastly different experiences, and will look back on that day with different impressions.
Even so, on some level, endurance athletes of all abilities seem to have some kind of common ground. Although our war stories are our own to reflect on and, if we choose, to share, somehow they all add to our shared experience. Whether you came first or came last; whether you set a personal best or limped home. It all adds to who we are, as individuals and in some way, as a community.
My friends both had to deal with challenging conditions, an unexpected course change, and of course, kilometres of river, trail and road. They are both Coast to Coast finishers, and although to some it's just what we do - to most, it's more than what's possible.
Showing posts with label adventurerace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventurerace. Show all posts
They don't call it "cycle-gaine" for nothing... Pt4
No, they don't. So what do I think I "gained"?I have a newfound sense of adventure. At the beginning of the event, when the other teams continued on along the sealed road, my first instinct was to wonder whether they were lost. They weren't; they'd just chosen a different option to us. Early on, when things were tough, I'd wondered why we hadn't also chosen "a different option" but in retrospect, I'm glad to have had the experience I did, as hard as it was.
I gained a couple of blisters. Big ones. But they'll heal.
I gained a fantastic memory, of an excellent experience with Miri. The last couple of times I've ridden with her I've felt humbled at what a patient and encouraging person she is, and how lucky I am to have her as a friend. She stuck by me and looked after me. Thanks Miri!
We gained a second placing. Mostly, when I enter a race where there's three entrants in my category, I place third. We did well.
I gained an appreciation of how much fitter I need to be in order to contribute effectively in a team situation.
I gained an idea of what I can achieve on the mountain bike. Before Sunday, the total time I'd spent offroad on my mountain bike wouldn't have been much more than four hours in total. To spend that much time in one go, and survive as well as I have (blisters aside) is something to be proud of, and build upon...
Ironically, for all that I gained through this experience, I also learned that there's still more to gain.
They don't call it "cycle-gaine" for nothing... Pt3
The "upwards" weren't entirely done for the day, but none of them seemed as bad as the first section we'd already endured. We certainly continued, onwards and forwards, finding control points at a "high point", downstream and upstream, at a "watercourse head" and to the south east side of "spurs junction". Though neither Miri or I knew what that meant...?
I have to admit that most of the day, I followed Miri's navigation unquestionably. There were a couple of occasions when other teams asked questions about where we'd been and how far we were from the checkpoint. The first couple of times I was really very vague, before sheepishly admitting I had no idea.
It took me a couple of encounters such as this to realise that perhaps my evasive reactions may be considered by those enquirers to not be in the spirit of things. Even though the rules of rogaining clearly state that teams shall not accept assistance from, nor collaborate with, other people...
I realised my mistake and from then, I simply told the truth. "I've got no idea... I'm just following..."
We'd collected seven checkpoints, and had only about half an hour left on the clock when we encountered the boys. We were on our way to our final planned checkpoint of the day, 81. Pretty soon after this, Miri was telling me how fine we were cutting it for time, so even in the spots where the sand was like a sink hole, we had to either ride or run.
She'd been chattering away all day up ahead of me. This was one of the few things I'd understood first time. She must be serious.
So I did what I was told. We finally got back onto sealed road (for the first time since right at the start of the event) when Miri pulled over with a slight mechanical issue. I presumed it wasn't serious when I understood her for what seemed like the second time of the day.
"Keep riding as hard as you can. I'll catch you."
All of a sudden there were teams all around us. We hadn't had company like this since the start of the event. But now, with the clock winding down, there were teams everywhere, desperate to get in before the 3.30pm cutoff.
I kept riding, and Miri did catch me. I stayed on her tail and we made it back to the Hash House with just 19 seconds to spare. We handed in our chips, awaited our printout, and found our result card hung in second place. After an anxious wait, the third team in the Womens Open category finally materialised. They were third. We'd earned our second place fair and square, and only missed first place by ten points.
I have to admit that most of the day, I followed Miri's navigation unquestionably. There were a couple of occasions when other teams asked questions about where we'd been and how far we were from the checkpoint. The first couple of times I was really very vague, before sheepishly admitting I had no idea.
It took me a couple of encounters such as this to realise that perhaps my evasive reactions may be considered by those enquirers to not be in the spirit of things. Even though the rules of rogaining clearly state that teams shall not accept assistance from, nor collaborate with, other people...
I realised my mistake and from then, I simply told the truth. "I've got no idea... I'm just following..."
We'd collected seven checkpoints, and had only about half an hour left on the clock when we encountered the boys. We were on our way to our final planned checkpoint of the day, 81. Pretty soon after this, Miri was telling me how fine we were cutting it for time, so even in the spots where the sand was like a sink hole, we had to either ride or run.
She'd been chattering away all day up ahead of me. This was one of the few things I'd understood first time. She must be serious.
So I did what I was told. We finally got back onto sealed road (for the first time since right at the start of the event) when Miri pulled over with a slight mechanical issue. I presumed it wasn't serious when I understood her for what seemed like the second time of the day.
"Keep riding as hard as you can. I'll catch you."
All of a sudden there were teams all around us. We hadn't had company like this since the start of the event. But now, with the clock winding down, there were teams everywhere, desperate to get in before the 3.30pm cutoff.
I kept riding, and Miri did catch me. I stayed on her tail and we made it back to the Hash House with just 19 seconds to spare. We handed in our chips, awaited our printout, and found our result card hung in second place. After an anxious wait, the third team in the Womens Open category finally materialised. They were third. We'd earned our second place fair and square, and only missed first place by ten points.
They don't call it "cycle-gaine" for nothing... Pt1
Kekeboy and I arrived at the Peachester Hall, bright and early, not really sure what today would bring. Just the way I like event days to be - I've often said that the day I stop feeling any kind of emotion on race day, is the day I'll give it away.
There were no sign of our team members yet, but there was plenty of time until the race start.
Finally, at 10am the boys set off on the six hour event. Miri and I still had half an hour before the maps were issued, then another hour before our race start. We used the time to get our gear thoroughly organised, and then just chill out, before we picked up our map and tried to decipher it.
As is the custom in rogaining, the checkpoints had different values - in this case, 50, 60, 70, 80 and 90 points. We looked at groupings of checkpoints geographically, knowing there was no way we would be able to collect all of them, and decided to head off in pursuit of the two groups of checkpoints to the south of the Hash House.
Miri mapped out the route, mainly on "dirt roads, track / path" according to the map legend. We attached our maps, Miri to her map board and me more amateurishly, with cable ties to my handlebars.
Until this point, we'd been set up in the Phoenix Adventure HQ around the back of the HH. When we went around the front to the start, we were startled by the number of teams also anxiously awaiting the whistle start. It was then that the excitement really kicked in! It was only a few minutes before the whistle sounded and the Grigor Peachester Four Hour Cyclegaine was on.
There were no sign of our team members yet, but there was plenty of time until the race start.
Finally, at 10am the boys set off on the six hour event. Miri and I still had half an hour before the maps were issued, then another hour before our race start. We used the time to get our gear thoroughly organised, and then just chill out, before we picked up our map and tried to decipher it.
As is the custom in rogaining, the checkpoints had different values - in this case, 50, 60, 70, 80 and 90 points. We looked at groupings of checkpoints geographically, knowing there was no way we would be able to collect all of them, and decided to head off in pursuit of the two groups of checkpoints to the south of the Hash House.
Miri mapped out the route, mainly on "dirt roads, track / path" according to the map legend. We attached our maps, Miri to her map board and me more amateurishly, with cable ties to my handlebars.
Until this point, we'd been set up in the Phoenix Adventure HQ around the back of the HH. When we went around the front to the start, we were startled by the number of teams also anxiously awaiting the whistle start. It was then that the excitement really kicked in! It was only a few minutes before the whistle sounded and the Grigor Peachester Four Hour Cyclegaine was on.
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