The only problem was that I had never raced prior to signing up for this and while I had seen my husband race a couple times, I never personally toed the line. I didn't know what the rush of adrenaline would do to me mid-race. Randall convinced me a couple of warmup races might be appropriate. My first race was a simple St. Patty's Day 5k in Highlands Ranch, Colorado. I didn't run it very fast, I posted a 30:30, but for me, the goal was simple completion. I thought it would serve a great lesson in pacing. Upon finishing, I was addicted. Now that I actually raced, could I decrease my time or lengthen the distance, or both?
Throughout my life, I have been extremely competitive. Whether through work, play, sport, or family, I always need to feel like I am growing. Racing offered me that immediate release, something I completely gave up when I quit my teaching job January of 2008.
Next, I signed up for a back country 10k, but at this point had never run more than 5 miles consecutively. One week before the race, I ran 6 miles. Hindsight now tells me what awful training that was and my body paid the price. When I got home, I was absolutely exhausted. I hadn't learned how to pace myself, and if I was going to experience the lead inducing pain of multi-sport, I needed to catch that line quickly. The back country 10k was so unbelievably painful. I finished at 60:02, which I realize now was not a bad time considering the ridiculous climbs and troublesome terrain, but when I crossed the finish line, I just wanted to rest.
The few months I spent doing bricks (run, bike, run, bike, etc...), increasing my mileage with each set and finding the beauty of negative splits along the way. Bricks increased my overall speed dramatically. I went from a 10:30 running pace to 9:00 and eventually an 8 minute 5k. My lungs opened up much quicker and distance while running or biking was of little concern. I had to be extremely disciplined over the next couple months sticking to a training plan so that I didn't go out too hard or too far and injure myself.
At Barking Dog, I raced with my mountain bike. The fat tire division allows newcomers a way into the sport and levels the playing field. Three weeks before the race, I sat down with all of the previous years' results. I knew I couldn't bike as fast as some of the competitors but across the board, people go out far too hard on the first run and save nothing for the final 3 miles. Their posted times were showing remarkable first miles that made them completely bomb the final few. I wanted to run a smart race, not necesssarily the fastest possible. I calculated my desired times for each leg of the race and memorized exactly what I needed to do. I practiced running and biking at that speed and on race day, I felt extremely prepared.
About 75% through the biking leg of the race, a man on a rocket bike passed me and said, "Wow! You are ahead of the other fat tires by at least 7 minutes!" That gave me the fuel I needed. I finished the race, beating all 15 men on mountain bikes by over 10 minutes, the 10 females by over 13 minutes.
My uncle, a fellow athlete, came to town the next day and told my husband to get me a racing bike, he wanted to see what I could do if I had a real machine. The Black Mamba has won two other duathlons with me this season, not in a beginners racing class, but at the competitive racing level.
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