Friday night was the eve of Xterra Rotorua. I was feeling pretty average with a bit of a headache, probably caused by the thought of sitting in Friday afternoon Mass Exodus type Auckland Traffic.
After a frustrating 4 hour drive we hit the strip. High rise hotels, Strippers everywhere, the sound of pokies making it rain....not quite but there’s a reason that shithole in America stole the Vegas name! This place is epic, It’s the single best trail network I’ve ever been privileged to ride. We rushed into rego then headed to town for the trusty pre race Burger fuel up.
The morning began early as I was watching the guns at the mountain bike race. I watched at the transition/bottleneck from road to dirt and it was everything I imagined it to be providing top comedy. Time for breakfast. Had a Tupperware of muesli and a bottle of chocolate milk, The breakfast of champions. Bit of an oversight with regards to the spoon. Got some funny looks from passer bys when they caught a glance of a man in a onsie sculling a brown chunky substance from carton, milk pouring from the side of my mouth.
I went for a little warm up run. Things felt relatively good. As good as a warm up can feel. Race time was fast approaching. A real highlight in triathlon for me is the part where everyone smothers themselves in baby oil. Any excuse to lube up and go flail around in a confined space.
An overhead camera flew over everyone while we were standing on the start line. The thing was crazy, straight out of a sci-fi movie.
After the 20 minutes of waiting on the start line (more like 2 in real time) the gun went off.
The Swim went well although it’s always hard to know at the time. I did my trademark smash the first 300m then realise I haven’t actually done that much swimming. Swimming is not a bike race. One day I will learn.
I came out of the water feeling like id had a big night on tequila but moved relatively well through transition despite a few issues with the Velcro on my wetsuit.
Onto the bike, very excited. This feeling quickly subsided as my legs began burning. I passed a few people before leaving the road. Onto the trail, tracking well all the way up the climb. I past a couple people who yelled out my position. 9th place mate. Happy with that!
The trails kept climbing until out of nowhere, frontal lobotomy. I love this trail. Genuinely a piece of trail building mastery that you can make an uphill switchback trail this good. Got another guy on the pinches. Next on the list was Billy T. Arguably one of the best trails in the around, but my lack of mountain biking was evident. Felt a bit sketchy but was moving along alright.
I started hearing the clatter of a rider coming up behind me. Bet that’s Cabin. This thought was interrupted by Shit there goes my bottle. That’s all my drink and food. Bottle cage you are dead to me. I let him through. Vegas locals know how to pin these trails. I jumped on his back wheel and tried to follow his lines. Front wheel washes out on a gravelly corner. Damn that hurts. Dead leg. High on adrenaline I grab the bike and go. I can hear the rider i past earlier catching me up. I push on. The leg was in absolute agony every pedal stroke. Getting it moving with some fast cadence. I look down to see some blood on the knee. I let the dude behind me through taking it easy down G-Rock following this guy. It’s about then the thoughts of pulling out and ‘how the hell am I going to run 10km’ in this state start coming.
After G rock the trail goes up again into Chestnut link. Use the climb to pull in a couple more people. No sign of Cabin though. That man was on a mission. We climb up to split ends. I love this trail and have gotten a little more mtb practise from the previous trails so it’s game on. Blow past the French rider who pulls over in a super courteous out of his way manner. “Cheers dude see you on the run” (he looked like a weapon). The confidence is a bit lacking so I take it a little easy on the gravel corners. I am joined by Carl Jones. I jump on and work with him along the lake side.
Into transition, I chuck the bike down. Shoes on. Think to myself I should probably get some food and drink on board, since it’s been an hour and a half. Dammit, some dudes snapped me with the camera having a Picnic. I grab what’s left and go. Leave transition with Carl sipping back on some wallpaper glue. Start getting into my running, Carl drift back might have something to do with the taped up knee. Once I get into the bush it gets extreme! Slip and sliding, ending up in a bush on the first corner. wicked fun.
Doesn’t take long for the Frenchy to pass me. Watch him go by wishing I knew how to run fast. To say the stair were painful is an understatement. Every time I pushed down with my left thigh I got a dead leg. Excellent. Besides the pain I don’t think I was running to badly. Then Vincent came blowing past me. I tried to pick up the pace but I’m rubbish at sand running, hence why I let The Hof take the lead on Baywatch.
Second lap was alright although I couldn’t wait for the finish. Now everyone has to have some memories of running away from something in their childhood. Mine was a crocodile. Searching for balls next to a golf course in Durban. Trying to imagine a crocodile chasing me. I’ve got to stop running in zigzag. It can’t be very efficient.
Running scared is not a fun way to run, but it certainly keeps you going. Luckily no one got up to me. Finishing 7th overall and first non pro. Less than 8 minutes down on the winner. Very happy but in pain. Was time for a swim in the lake and some beers.
Next day I did some shuttles down Billy T. Got that corner sorted now. Xterra Worlds are next on the agenda.
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