Estabrook Park Cross Race

Yeah, I remembered cross racing was hard, but I seem to have forgotten just HOW hard it is. Holy Cow.

We arrived at Estabrook park in the drizzle. It was cold and icky looking. While the course didn't really appear muddy, it was wet and slippery in a few places. I wrestled with the lethargic feelings inside me. . . . the ones that just wanted to go plop my butt on a chair and cheer for my peeps, but I knew I needed a high end workout and one way to make SURE I got that work out was to suit up and race. SO, reluctantly, I did.

I'm really not all that fond of my cross bike (her name is tangerine). Sure, she's pretty, cuz she's orange, but the crank has never been all that good, the pedals turn harder than they should and it doesn't have enough gears - I might as well be racing a SINGLE SPEED cross bike cuz I only use a couple gears. I'm not sure it's ever made it to the big ring. I'd need a pretty big downhill to use that puppy. And no matter how hard I try to clean it, the chain is ALWAYS full of crap & crud. While it feels like a tank, I guess it is lighter than my mountain bike. . . . .and it does match my team gear, so at least I look good (or so I think).

Anyway, I registered myself, suited up and headed out for a warm up. Who was I kidding. The only way I was going to get a warm up was to hit the course. . . . . .so as soon as they cleared the racers off, that's what I did.

As I started out it wasn't SO bad. Sure I got bounced around a lot. . . . .and I sure missed the awesome Terry Saddle on my mountain bike. . . . but it wasn't SO bad. I hit the first set of barriers and while I've practiced ONCE this year (with TAPE as barriers. . . . .which I BROKE mind you), I managed to clear them OK. Probably cuz I got off about a quarter mile ahead of time and simply ran so I wouldn't fall on them. My remounts were a little rusty, but overall not so bad so I headed to the start line and was ready to go.

After racing the Cat 4 women and taking the overall 2 years in a row, I had upgraded to a Cat 3 last year. Yeah, I'm not a Cat 3. Those chicks are WAY faster than I am. But I figured, what the heck. Someone has to finish last.

They called us up to roll out and off we were. It was no more than 20 seconds into the race when I heard my heart rate monitor pop over LT (which would be over 182 for me). I never heard it drop under again. That race was 45 minutes of pure hell. The high end workout I was looking for. . . . I found. An average HR at a HARD WORS race is about 182 for me. And that's a good race where I'm REALLY working. Yesterday, my AVERAGE was 187. Yes, that's my average, not my max. My max was 195. Yes, it hurt. A LOT.

I took up the back right off the bat and that was OK. Part way through the 2nd or 3rd lap I saw Sonia (who was the next girl in front of me) quickly pull over, which I soon discovered was to "get rid of some of her breakfast". How she kept going after that, I have no idea. In fact she closed a good portion of the gap and almost GOT me in the end. . . . . .after she had completely stopped and "partially yaked" (as we later labeled it). Wow.

I thought about quitting a number of times. I wondered how in the world I would hold that heart rate for that entire 45 minutes. At one point when I thought I was literally going to DIE, I looked down to see how long I was into the race and discovered it was only 19 minutes - not even 1/2 way. After that, I never let myself look again. At 2 different times I started day dreaming, almost hallucinating, and completely lost the trail. Once I nearly broke through the tape when the trail turned and I went straight. I was just delirious I was working so hard. But I kept telling myself, it's only 45 minutes. So I hung in there.

Sonia and I brought up the back of the Cat 3 women to finish the race, and we lived to race another day. How, I have no idea. How I got out of BED this morning I have no idea. My feet are killing me, my hip flexors feel like a midget used them as a trampoline all night, my calves are twice their normal size, my gluts feel like someone whacked them with a baseball bat and my back is screaming that it needs some ibuprofen - or something STRONGER. It should be an awesome Monday.

I think I remembered why I only did one or two cross races last year. Yeah. Those cross racers are CRAZY people. Crazy I tell you. :-)