Orienteering 11/12

I decided to run the red course instead of green, only because there was an ultra long blue course. I ended up doing pretty well:

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I’m still slightly rusty on my navigation, but it is coming back. I waisted about 5 minutes on the 1st control being too far up a wide re-entrant, and had to go back to a trail to attack number 9 again when I couldn’t find it the 1st time, but other than that, I was pretty close each time.

My knee definitely felt it the next day, but it wasn’t terrible. However, I had no time to ice it the day of the run or the day after.

Orienteering event

On 10/22 I ran an orienteering event for the 1st time in a while. I think I only made it out once last year due to knee surgery in September, when the season starts. I was definitely a little rusty with navigation, but not as bad as I thought I would be. And I was able to run much more of the course than I thought I could. I ended up 4th on the green course, which is the 2nd longest. (It is the same difficulty — expert level — as the red, just a little shorter.)

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The one part that got me the most was when I thought I was a little off, so I ran up a road about 50 meters to verify that a cemetery was there. Well, it was there on the map, but not in reality. So then I was really questioning where I was. I ran up another 150 or 200 meters to a road intersection, to finally be certain of where I was, and then had to run all the way back. That probably cost a good 7 or 8 minutes total.

I’ll be going back out on 11/12, and will probably run green again. Before surgery, I’d often be 1st or 2nd on the green course, so I hope to get back to that point.

9-1-1 Adventure Race

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In hindsight, maybe picking an 8 hour adventure race as my 1st race in over 2 years was not the best decision. And doing it solo at that (my 1st solo attempt in an AR)!

Two+ years of knee problems is a long time, and I really miss the sport. This race is put on by my own Triangle Adventure Racing Team, and Brian was the director, so I had asked him about the format before I decided to join up. When he said it was a long bike, followed by a rogaine (score-o) style run/trek, I figured that would be good for me. My knee is handling biking pretty well, but running still seems to bother it. So I thought, after the bike, if my knee is sore, I’ll just walk a few o-controls and call it a day.

Kelly actually was shooting a horse show in Western NC, but thankfully Aunt Jenny and Uncle Loci were kind enough to watch Riley and Reece for me starting Saturday night all the way until Sunday evening.

The race start was at 6 a.m., with registration from 4:30 – 5:30, and a pre-race meeting at 5:30. That meant getting up at 3:30 a.m. for me — time for a hot shower, a cup (or two!) of coffee, and a pop-tart. Then the 45 minute drive over to Umstead State Park. I had not fully packed my gear yet — just gotten out everything that I would need — since I didn’t know the exact format. So after I registered, I got enough info to know how to pack for the 1st leg, and then went to the meeting.

The race started with a prologue, in which each team sent out a runner to go get the maps. Since I was racing solo, that mean I had to do the running. It was 2.3 miles according to Ernie, who had gone out to clock it on his bike. That’s about the limit of my running recently, so I figured that might make the rest of the day interesting. I ran all the way to the maps at my current very slow pace of about 10 min/mile. On the way back, I took the time to walk and review the maps for the bike, since it was “choose your route” style.

When I got back to the start area, I just grabbed my bike and my pack, and start riding. Most other teams had just run all the way back, and chose their routes in the TA. But my strategy was to not pushing my knee too hard by not running all the way back, and I was pretty much heading out at the same time as everyone anyway. I first went and grabbed CP 6, off Turkey Creek Trail in Umstead, and then headed on to CP 8 in Shenk Forrest.

From there, it seemed most teams head back into Umstead to continue getting controls there. I thought I could take some roads out of the park, come up on CP 9 which was in a neighborhood, and then hit CP 7 on the Cary greenway, before heading into Lake CrabTree Park, then the swim, then the Rocky Road bike trails, and then back to Umstead. I saw one other soloist leaving Shenk heading the same way, and then came across a team of 3 out on the roads, so it seemed like not many were tackling the course in this manner.

I think it would have been a good strategy, other than CP 9 turned out to be difficult to find. I spent maybe 30 minutes in the general area, then decided to go on to CP 7. But when I got to the greenway, I looked at the maps one more time, and thought I could find CP 9 tackling it from this direction. Another 30 minutes later, I finally gave up on CP9. The bike course was scored such that 18 of 18 was worth 50 points, 17 of 18 was worth 25 points, and 16 of 18 was required. I had already wasted an hour and was just spending time I could have on the o-course gaining more points.

So, on to CP 7, and then to Lake Crab Tree. I picked up C4 and then C3, and headed to the swim. Here’s a picture of me riding into the swim area:

bike

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The water was pretty choppy on the way out, and it took me 9 minutes to get to the buoy, where we had to remember 3 numbers and write them down when we got back to dry land. But it only took 6 minutes back in, for a total time of just under 17 minutes. I think that was probably one of the fastest swims, but the race officials weren’t timing this portion, so who knows. Next time I’ll wear fins! 🙂

Here a couple of pictures from the swim:

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And here’s a picture of me after the swim — probably the last time I was smiling!

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After that, it was off to get C1 and C2 on the Lake Crabtree trails, which were both easy, and then off to Rocky Road. The Rocky road map scale was 1 inch to 100 meters, which took a few minutes to get used to. I went into Rocky Road directly across from the fence to the Greenway, and it would have been better to hang a left and go up the road a bit, and then right into Rocky Road. Where I went in was very overgrown!

Anyway, I got R3 pretty quickly, and then went on to get R4, which was a walk, and then crawl, across a down tree about 10 feet above the creek, and a run east along the far bank. Once I got R4, the creek there was shallow enough to walk across and go back to my bike. I then set off for R5, which gave me some trouble. Here, the scale seemed much bigger than the map showed. It didn’t help that I got a flat while looking for it, as that kind of threw me off. I eventually went off to get R2, which was easy, and then tackled R5 from that angle, and then it was not so hard to find.

At this point, it was a slow easy climb up an old fire road to get R1 and then back to Umstead to get the last few controls there. But by this point, I was really starting to feel my knee, and my legs were dead tired. I had been out for almost 6 hours, whereas my longest training rides were typically just 45 minutes, other than the one mountain bike race I had done which was about 90 minutes.

R1 was easy, but the ride back to Umstead seemed much longer than normal. I was running low on water so I stopped to fill up, jumped back on the bike and road for 5 minutes before I realized I was not going where I had planned. So I turned around, back to the water fountain, and then back to where I wanted to go. I went to pick up CP3 at a 3-way road intersection, but it was no where to be found. None of the controls had been hidden, and this was very obviously the right location, so I just assumed it had been removed. Tried to call in to the RD but had the wrong number, so I just left. But later it was confirmed that CP3 had been removed. :-/

It was here when I realized CP4 was not in Umstead, but back on the far side of Lake Crabtree! I had made the mistake of not looking that closely for all the controls, and CP4 was kind of beyond the others, but really not far from Crabtree. At this point I was not going to ride back the 5 or so miles to get it! So it was off to CP1 at the far north entrance, in the campground, which was easy (other than being tired!). Then off to get CP2, and then make the ride back to the transition area. Since I had 16 of 18 bike controls, I had a big fat 0 for a score, with not much time left.

By the time I got to the TA it was about 13:35 and I was assuming I would just call it a day and not do any orienteering. But Brian and Jeff eventually talked me into getting at least one. So I ran out and got the closest control, about 500 meters away, worth a whopping 11 points. I later heard that if I had not grabbed at least one O control, I would have been a DNF! And it actually felt good to do a little running after such a long time on the bike.

All in all it was a really good race. The bike was longer than the race director expected, but some of that was most racers decided to go out and try for all bike controls and the 50 points that would give. In hindsight, I should have gone in to the TA after the prologue to look at the O control point values, which ranged from 10 – 50 points. I probably would have given up a lot sooner on CP9 if I knew I could have made up more points on the trek. Most teams did look at the trek points while their runner was out on the prologue, but I had opted not to do that to save a little time. But I definitely should have.

The results have not been posted, but the top soloist and overall winner had over 500 points, to my big 11. But most of the teams that placed in their respective divisions had between 100 – 200 points. I’m definitely a lot slower than I was 2 years ago! But serious lack of training due to knee problems will do that I guess.

While it was not a great result for me place wise, I think my knee handled everything fairly well, and my real goal for the race was to have fun and see how my knee reacted. So in that sense, it was a good race.

Long lost Song from Coast to Coast Race

The 1st year I raced the Florida Coast to Coast with Will, our support crew wrote a song over the course of the 2 days while we were out in the sun and sand of FL. At the end of the race, they sang it to us “live,” but later made a “produced” version which I include here.

There’s a link from the race report, but I want to put it here as a test of this new audio wordpress plugin that will let me put audio directly in a post.

HuckaBuck Mountain Bike Race

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This was my 1st race in way tooo long… I knew I missed racing — racing of any kind — but I didn’t know how much until I did this! It was a 12 mile course, 2 loops of 6 miles, and relatively flat for this area. It had been a couple years since I rode these trails so it was all new to me.

I signed up for Begginer Men, and ended up in 22nd out of about 40. But if you look at the times, it was less than 5 minutes slower than the winner. Overall not that bad considering almost all of my biking has been on paved roads or fire roads as I’ve worked on re-habing my knee post surgery. In fact, the knee did great — no discomfort the entire race, and here it is the next day and it is still fine. I was actually worse off cardiovasculalry, and even more than that, the hands, wrists, and forearms were dead after the 1st lap. I guess the lack of single track was really showing there.

Looking at the splits, I was just about even at 36 minutes per loop. The 1st 10 minutes or so was pretty slow, as I started near the rear of the pack as I wasn’t sure how I would do and I’ve never done a mass start for a mountain bike race where there was only 100 feet to the single track. So I had to work my way up as I figured out who was slow, and as others crashed. Then after that I was pretty much able to ride my own pace for the next 60 minutes, though whenever I heard someone trying to catch up, I was motivated to push it. I think I was passed only three times total, and probably passed about 20 or 25 riders.

So, overall I am happy. The knee handled it very well, and now I know I can at least bike at a decent clip. I have a ways to go on running before I can do even a short AR, though hiking is going really well so for a long AR, where there’s more hiking than running, I may be ok.

Now I need to find the next race to put on my calendar so I continue to train! 🙂

Adventure Racing

A friend of mine posted this recently:

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And it reminded me of an old email I saw on the same subject that I saved because it was so well written. I figure posting it here is better than keeping it in my email with the chance of it never seeing the light of day.

It has now been 2 years and 1 month since I did my last big Adventure Race — the PHEAR race up in WV. Since then it has been a lot of work on my bum knee. I’m riding well these days — up to an hour with no ill side effects. Running is still tougher, but I did run 23 minutes just yesterday and i don’t feel any tendernesss at all. So hopefully things are coming together. Even if running never comes back to the level I need it to be to race (fast!) again, I’d be happy hiking, mountain biking, and paddling. But I do miss racing a ton!

Anyway, on to the article….


Why I do Adventure Racing:

By Bob Blundell-Team Pushin’ Up Daisies

It was one recent Monday afternoon at the gym and I was bent over studying the recent demise of my feet. I prodded several blisters that I had popped the previous day and marveled at the blackened toe nails that I sport pretty much year round; a byproduct of my chosen sport. While I’m performing this inspection, some guy next to me gags (maybe a little exaggeration) and says something like…”My God..what happened to your feet?

I smiled and responded cheerfully….” Did an adventure race over the weekend”

He nodded and started to say something.

“Adventure racing,” I explained. “You know like the Eco Challenge.”

He shrugged and looked again at my toes.

I started to explain that I’d just spent 32 hours at a race in Northern Georgia in sub-freezing weather. At one point I had spent 14 painful hours with my rear end on the seat of a mountain bike, pushing and sliding through snow in weather that never got above 30. I considered adding that blisters generally came with the territory in most cases, but these here were more likely the affects of trekking through snow for 16 more hours. By this time I noticed that he had opted to move a little further down the bench away from me and my feet.

I have to admit this wasn’t the first look of confusion, dismay, or incident where someone, upon inquiring about the sport I love, treated me more like a Leper than an endurance athlete. Often when I first meet people and tell them that I’m an adventure racer, they smile and nod their heads like they know what I’m talking about.

Sometimes they say things like “oh. Yeah…I’ve heard about those things.” or ” isn’t that kinda like a triathlon?” or maybe they don’t say anything at all and just look at me with a mild curiosity. That ‘s typically when that mild curiosity turns to total apathy.

As I think about this now it occurs to me that their lack of understanding probably stems more from my own inability to articulate and describe the sport I love, than some ineptness on their part. So now I sit and ponder…really think about what Adventure Racing is about.

Adventure racing is being around a bunch of people who are fit and strong and a little twisted. These people tend to like it when their knees bleed and they have mud on their legs, on their glasses, in their teeth, and on their bike. If after a race, they aren’t bent or broken, mangled, sprained or bloodied, they feel like they didn’t get their money’s worth. They’d rather have their butts on the seat of a mountain bike climbing some torturous hill from hell, than in a first class seat on some jet going somewhere (unless of course they’re flying to their next adventure race). These people feel like slugs when they only get an hour workout in a day and they believe muscle cramps are just God’s way to telling them they are still alive!

They’re generally a resourceful lot that can speak intelligently about many obscure topics. This may include:

+ the best and worst flavors of gu’s
+116 different uses for duct tape
+ the countless benefits of carrying Vaseline with you during a race
+ How long AA batteries in a head lamp will last in 30 degree weather

They often speak in a language foreign to most normal people. Words and phrases like TAs, and Sevvies, hard tails and soft tails, camelbaks, and azimuths are common in their conversations. They also possess skills unknown to most like:

+ knowing how to use a chain breaker at night
+ Knowing how to turn an old fishing rod and surgical tubing into a bike tow
assembly
+ Knowing how to duct tape a flashlight on top of a bike helmet

Unlike many people they gain pleasure from some of the simpler things in life. Things like:

+ That wonderful first drink of cold water after a long trekking leg
+ The sheer ecstasy of finding a wadded-up peanut butter sandwich in their backpack when they thought they had run out of food
+ The unadulterated joy felt when your teammate offers you a dry pair of socks after you’ve fallen into a ditch filled with cold water
+ The soothing calm felt after applying a liberal dollop of Vaseline to araw spot

The sport of adventure racing has given me the opportunity to travel to places and see things I would have otherwise missed in my life. I’ve seen the amber cast of the sun as it rises over snow capped mountains of northern Georgia. I’ve seen farmers, men, women, and children in rural parts of China stand along side poorly developed roads and cheer me and my team as we traveled through their villages by bike and by foot. I’ve watched the sun melt into the horizon of the mountains of west Texas. I’ve marveled at the
beauty of an east Texas swamp under a December full moon.

I’ve run or biked with deer and wild hogs and turkeys, and porcupines. I’ve paddled alongside alligators and nutria rats and been chased by bees and wasps and an assortment of other insects. I’ve gone three days without sleep and witnessed some of the most incredible hallucinations on that third day.

I’ve witnessed the courage of team mates and others as they struggle to continue on with races, hobbled by broken collar bones, sprained and bloodied knees, fever and chills, vomiting and diarreaha. All these experiences have marked me; made me a little different.

But when I think of adventure racing, and why I do it, I most often think of my teammates and the trials and tribulations we go through together.

I think adventure racing is about the relief one feels as you struggle up a never ending hill, worn out and downcast, wondering if you’ll make it to the top, and you suddenly feel the weight of your pack lifted off your shoulders by one of your team mates. It’s climbing up a rock slope on all 4s carrying your bike on your shoulder and getting to the top and seeing a team mate struggle with theirs. And it’s taking a few deep breaths and summoning the
strength to slide back down the hill to help them.

It’s having the feeling that you can’t put one foot in front of another, and a teammate placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder in support. It’s coming off a bitterly cold paddling leg and shivering uncontrollably with few dry clothes to change into and your teammate offering without hesitation, a dry shirt or pair of socks or gloves. It’s watching a teammate crash on their bike hard and getting up and fighting back the tears and climbing back on that monster again to press on; fearful of slowing the team down.

It’s about pulling and pushing each other to levels that you’d have thought not possible for you to physically achieve individually. It’s running and pulling your slower teammate at a pace you shouldn’t be able to maintain and hearing them challenge you and the team to keep going; all for the sanctity of the race. It’s the almost cosmic feeling of going faster and harder as a team than you thought possible. It’s seeing your nearest competition in the race on your tail and the three or four of you (your team) suddenly becoming one stronger, faster force.

It’s watching and feeling the total sense of unity as your team succeeds and it’s feeling an equal responsibility when you do not. It’s a sport where the strongest of the team is only really as strong and fast as the slowest member, forcing the Team to focus and excel as one unit. It’s a sport characterized by a myriad of changing human dynamics and moods within a race. One person emerges as the strength of the team only to be replaced by
another who grows stronger. It’s where you can one moment be almost paralyzed by with desperation one second and then driven to great heights because you just found a Hershey bar or a big handful of trail mix to eat.

It’s about screaming and cussing each other over not being able to find a checkpoint, or over losing the passport or just because you’re tired and worn down and filled with frustration. And it’s about freely bantering among the team with liberal spattering of FUs and other colorful forms of speech and then hugging each other at the end with those obscenities forgotten.

It’s asking your teammate for something….for anything and knowing without a doubt that they’ll give it to you if they have it to give.

So……….I guess that’s why I do adventure racing