It all started with a crazy run to a crazy event on a
morning that I felt pretty rough, but it was beautiful day, so why not? After
an unlucky snowshoe loss near the end of the race, I was left just off the
podium. The next week I had a chance to snowshoe race in Gatineau at a pretty
big event, and was rewarded with a silver medal (the participation medal looked
pretty great too). Now was my chance to get a good sleep, not eat fast food
that would cause me to wake up in the morning and get out of bed, and to win.
For the third week in a row, there was a snowshoe race!
I was thinking of trying to run to the race, I knew that I
had seen the “Odessa” sign not too far from Kingston whenever I’m driving but,
but upon checking the real distance it was 40 something km, and the race
started at 10am. No way. I managed to hitch
a ride with this awesome man named Jack Judge; a true northern guy. The man was
63 years old and had just completed his first 100 MILE race in the fall. These
winter multisport athletes are a pretty impressive bunch. Anyway, we got out to
pretty much nowhere in particular when I saw a big red barn and a bunch of cars
parked nearby. A very Canadian venue for a very Canadian sport.
Mark Robinson photo
There were a lot of people at the event, it was great to see some people that I had raced with and who train in obstacle course racing at the Alpha gym, as well as a lot of people from around Ontario. This snowshoe racing is such a great community with an awesome draw, with a friendly atmosphere and great organizers it's a great challenge for anyone from an elite athlete to a person who just wants a challenge, and I appreciate the mix!
The race was essentially a 6 and a bit km course shaped like the letter q; with about 2km out, a 2km loop, and 2km back. Right from the gun I ran with intent to win and led for the first km or so, until just before the course got into some tighter forest trail, where Charley Murphy (who knew the course and has been winning these things for years apparently) took his opportunity and flew by me. I figured that he was just going to blow up and I'd pass him again at this pace, but after a little while running behind him I just couldn't keep the pace.
Confidence in first place (Mark Robinson photo)
The first thing that I do when I lose first place is to stubbornly stick to the leader until they either blow up or I realize that it wasn't a fake burst of speed. The first thing that I do when I realize that first place faster than me is look back to where third place is. And so beings the game of cat and mouse.
Getting the fire ready for soup and keeping tired athletes warm (Mark Robinson photo)
John Bartello, a very fast obstacle racer from Toronto was back in the trail, not far back enough that I couldn't see him, but far enough back that I wasn't too worried about being caught. It's a real mind game, as the trail twists through the forest, or if you hear something behind you, you have to judge how close they are, keep calm, keep pace, and not fall. I was relieved by cheering on those who were still running the first 2km out, giving high fives as I ran my final 2kmI managed to keep ahead, and came in for another second place finish for the second weekend in a row. I couldn't help but think that for the second weekend in a row, the guy who was expected to win did so, and I was second place, but I tried!
The following photos are a great sequence captured by Mark Robinson, of all things I'm thinking near the end of a race:
Focus. Don't fall.
Don't give up.
Look up. Am I following a trail?
A photographer. Better smile.
That smile sucked. Better cheer.
Cheering is exhausting.
Focus. You're close to the finish.
Done. Time to not do anything. (Grace Vanderzande photo)
The awards after the race around the bonfire were great, and I was happy to have such great soup and be in good company. Flanel is a good uniform in the off season I think?
Thanks Derrick for the great event (Grace Vanderzande photo)
After my near success in the snowshoe race the previous weekend, combined with the fact that reading week (a week of no school) had just started and all of my friends were training in California, I decided that it was time for me to go to Ottawa to train hard for 4 days, support my friends in their ski race, have fun in the city with friends, and try another snowshoe race. This time to win. Truthfully I had no plans of where to sleep, or how to get around, but I had a ride to Ottawa and a lot of friends in the city so I could make it work, right? It was too cold not to.
Friday night we got in and I stocked up on the necessary supplies for a weekend of training and unpredictable living situations.
The snowshoe and ski races were on Sunday, and this time I
was taking things seriously and putting in a training block (lots of training
in a short amount of time), so I got out to the trails twice on Saturday and
familiarized myself with what I thought would be the course. I ended up doing a
massive extra loop, but I did the course too, and upon reviewing the maps at
home I was straightened out. The course started and finished in a windswept
field then got into some pretty technical, twisty and hilly trail for about a
kilometer or so. The course then went across another wind swept field and up a
hill that got steeper as you went up (I remember very clearly). The next part of the course was
pretty standard trails until a steep hill of about 60m elevation gain and a
wild 1.5 km run out to the finish zone.
I got to the race start and after watching my buddies do a
ski race in -36°C it
was my turn to run 10km on snowshoes. And this time I wanted to win! It was
hard to judge proper layering for this type of event, but I settled for 2
turtle necks, some wind proof tights, and a Gore-Tex shell. I was told that if
I wanted to win I had to keep my eye on this older guy who was probably going
to win. Didn't seem so bad, but here’s what I've been told about Dave McMahon:
he was one an Olympic athlete in Biathlon (skiing and shooting is a pretty
badass sport to be very good at), he has also married an olympic athlete, he trains about 3 hours a day, he runs a
snowshoe race series and two snowshoe group workouts every week, he owns and
runs multisport company, he coaches, and that he's a really nice guy.
It would be less embarrassing for me if you just muted this video..
I saw a big Gatorade water cooler right by the start line and decided to go get a drink, as any nervous athlete would right before a race. I swigged down cup in one gulp and there was something seriously wrong. It wasn't cold. It was salty. It was hot chicken broth.
Surprisingly, it wasn't actually that offputting, but I didn't get more.
I looked around at some pretty intense people at this start line and asked the guy next to me whether he'd been in a snowshoe race before, the response was a little intimidating
"Yeah, I was 12th at the world championships a couple of weeks ago! But my hamstring hurts today"
Oh. So that's how it is.
As one would expect, Dave went hard right from the start, positioning himself in first place through the technical bit, and I stayed right on his heels, thinking that to win, I'd have to stay in second position for the first bit at least, right?
Thanks Dave for posting this photo
Once we were out of the technical area the world championship guy blew by us and I was forced to make the same move; trying to stay in second place for as long as I could. As we crossed the windy field area, I noticed that this new pace was getting us ahead of everyone else.
"Push a little harder and we won't have to worry about them again!" I yelled
I regretted that in about 2 minutes when I forced myself to slow down, unable to keep the pace up the next hill. Well shoot.
When the trail flattened out again, I was back with a vengeance, and by the bottom of the gradual downhill section I was leading the race. I had mixed feelings about this, maybe it was a bad move, it was pretty early to assert myself as the leader in a 10km race, especially with these world class competitors, but hey, I was feeling good. I had a few minutes of trying to suppress panic, even though I knew that I wasn't actually choking, the combination of the cold and the double turtle neck gave me the feeling that someone had their hands clenched around my throat, and I grabbed the shirt and held the neck out from my adam's apple to try to calm down. I did not however get passed.
The last time I raced with a turtleneck I just took it off... (Thanks Brad Jennings for this photo)
I maintained first place until we got pretty close to the start finish, when this guy just came blowing by me. I was pretty upset about this, the crowds were everywhere and this guy was taking my glory. The audacity. I figured that he probably just wanted to lead going into the second lap, and that he'd surely blow up at that pace, until he went straight for the finish line cheered on by the crowd. That jerk was only doing the 5k race. What a softie.
I led into the technical section and Dave was back on my heels, and we were just far enough down the trail that we could still look back and see 3rd place, (who was another guy, not the world championship guy), but I didn't think that he'd catch us. By the time we got to the big hill near the end of the lap, I was feeling confident, but not about to waste all of my energy on the uphill, which is where I was passed. I ran the rest of the race out and finished second place, beaten by a man who truly new how to race properly.
Proper podium gear. I do best in flannel!
I asked for some advice after the podium from Dave, saying that I was thinking of doing more of these races, and he had some very encouraging words for me. Apparently I was quite fast down hills and on flat sections, and he described to me how to run up the hills properly (I had just been walking with long strides). He told me that I would "keep the pace" well. I asked what pace, expecting him to say his weekly snowshoe race series pace, but he told me that I would be competitive in a world cup. That was the first time anyone had ever said something like that to me, and I don't think that I'll ever forget it. All just because I tried a new sport and decided to give it a second chance!
So I heard of a weird and crazy thing happening in the next town over, called a snowshoe race. Let's think about that for a second.
and
plus
Yep, it's basically a perfect combination of awkward footwear, keeping warm by any means necessary, and high risk racing with lots of falls.
I had been thinking of getting to the snowshoe race on the weekend but I decided not to because I was busy with lab work, Popeye's chicken, bowling, and then out at the bars until close. I woke up though (a direct result of the fried chicken) about an hour and forty minutes before the race start, and it was a beautiful day. Plus I don't believe in hangovers. I tried calling a friend who was going, but they didn't answer so I did the logical thing; ate two Clif bars and started to run toward Westbrooke.
To give a bit of context, that morning wasn't too cold (maybe -15C), but it had snowed the whole night before and as a result the roads and sidewalks weren't properly plowed. I figured that the run was probably about 15km, but that someone going to the race would pick up the guy who is running along the side of the road with snowshoes tied to his bag, right? Wrong.
This is not the face of a guy who may not be happy with his choices
People tell me frequently enough that I'm "crazy" when I tell them of some of the stuff that I do outdoors. This time I thought that I was a bit crazy or stupid too. I realized that to get to the race with no help I had to run at basically my race pace because of the snow. This sign was probably the best thing that I could imagine:
..but I still had a couple of Kilometers..
I got to the race just on time to sign up, but not with enough time to have a bathroom break that I desperately needed. Seriously that chicken.
When I got to the start line, the race organizers was just explaining that some crazy guy had run all the way from Queen's University, and was just in the bathroom so the race would start as soon as he was out. I realized that there wouldn't be time for the bathroom, so I just got to the start line in time to hear the end of this. I raised my hand and let him know that I was there and the race could start. This was when I knew that I was in a good place - all of the racers (about 50) gave me a round of applause. It almost made the explosive pain in my gut go away. Almost. It did however give me the confidence to be quite assertive at the start of the 6.5km long race. Which looks exactly as funny as you hope it does.
I'm the guy in the white sleeves and green vest slotting into second place. I realized immediately that this was an ambitious thing to do, and if we hadn't been running through farm fields I may have actually pulled off to hide behind a treeline and relieve myself. One guy who I definitely knew to watch out for was my friend (who didn't answer his phone) Derek Snider, a very accomplished runner (having competed and raced internationally) and skier. He's also a pretty nice guy, so when I heard him come up behind me I just got right out of the way. This left me in third place, amazed at the pace of the guys ahead of me, and concerned about the real snowshoe racers behind me.
A snowshoe race obviously must follow a trail of some sort, so there was a very skinny trail packed through the bush. This is pretty hard to navigate on snowshoes, but you definitely want to stay on the trail, otherwise the more snow you're fighting through the harder it will be. In my rush to make it to the start line on time, I put my shoes on the wrong feet, which meant that the binding release was on the inside of my legs. Now, I either have massive calves, very little coordination running in snowshoes, the trail was too skinny, or some combination of all of these but I kept charlie horsing my calves on the snowshoes, causing some pretty serious brusing, and of course loosening of my snowshoe bindings.
Bruised calves and fantastic PJs
I had fun being in a race situation again, and it was nice to be assertive and own that third position in the race. There was a guy trailing me, but I was in 3rd and the next closest person behind him was too far back to catch us-as long as nothing bad happened.
I talked a fair amount to him, trying to figure out what snowshoe racers were like and what other sports they do. After some fairly one sided conversation he asked me if I did ultra marathons which are basically day long races on your feet. I told him that I did if I felt like it, but not officially (planning on doing one this weekend). I was promptly informed that he's an Ironman Triathlete, and he does ultra marathons too. I guess that these snowshoe racers are pretty hard core!
I tested him by accelerating my pace a few times, and found that I could create a gap between us quickly enough, but I wasn't interested in holding that pace if I didn't have to (remember I had run an hour and a half in the snow just to get to the race). So I held down third place and enjoyed talking at my fellow competitor. I was too tired for my heart rate to go high enough to get me to the point of breathlessness, and I was enjoying what I was doing. No pressure, right?
Looking the part of a guy who's falling asleep in this one (thanks Robby Breadner for emailing the photo)
With just over a kilometer to go, I felt my left snowshoe completely come loose, but I figured that for that distance, I could get away with kind of dragging my left foot, and may still keep my podium finish. After a minute of foot dragging, we were caught by 5th place, and another 30 seconds or so later I totally lost my snow shoe. It was pretty sad, but I had to stop and re attach my snowshoe with my cold hands, and watch the other two run towards the finish (we probably had 800m till the finish). I still came in strong once I re-attached my snowshoe, with a good race smile on my face.
(thanks again Robby Breadner for the photo)
The race was a great experience, I was shocked that there were so many people taking part, and was more than happy with my 5th place finish - if I had wanted to win, I should have taken it more seriously; I went for the fun and enjoyed not being too competitive (and doing well) at a race where nobody knows me. One thing that struck me was just how challenging it is to run in snow with snowshoes. It's tough to balance, it's insanely hard on the calves, and the quads. Just so that everyone is aware, I have since built up a tolerance for Popeyes, so I can exercise and eat it, please don't judge. The real moral of the story here though is that sometimes we all have to do things and if you push yourself really hard, you may find a new sport or do something that you never really thought that you'd be able to do. Now I've got the taste for these races, and I've done more since.
Keep posted for more updates!
The person who caught me at the end of the race and place fourth was Lindsay, Derek's girlfriend and another very fast runner. Yep I got chicked, and I was lucky to have stayed ahead of her so long anyway!
I'm sure that most athletes who have an almost unhealthy focus on a seasonal sport get into a routine in the off season that can seem a bit mundane at times. We all crave that exercise and competition, or even just something to do until it's time to compete in our respective sports again. For me, I just can't wait to ride bikes, my strategy as such is to book myself up entirely for every weekend until bike season is upon us again, and I have varying success in my endeavors. Last weekend I tried out for the Nordic ski team, but it's a very small, pretty elite race squad, and I'm quite new to the sport, so that was a flop. This weekend however, I had the opportunity to take part in an orienteering race through the snow.
A cool landmark in the race, I wonder how long it's been stuck for? (Brad Jennings Photo)
The concept is simple, one hour before start we are all given maps - this race spanned farm fields, forests, canals, creeks, ponds, swamps, rivers, drumlins, hydrolines, and even a university campus. The race format is teams of two, navigating in our own chosen order to try to make it to all of the 20 checkpoints and back in 3 hours. There are only 2 ways to get penalties - being late (penalty of 10 points per minute past the given 3 hours), and losing your punch card (penalty of 100 points). The 20 checkpoints in the race were worth anything from 20 points to the biggest which was worth 70 points, with their value assigned based on how far from the start finish that they are, how technical the terrain was that they are in, and how hard they are to find. Seems simple, right? Right.
Measuring distances so that we can count steps and get there precisely
My buddy Kelsey and I were team Gnarvest, and friends Matt and Nichola joined as a co-ed team called Matata Hakuna. The race started off pretty well, and almost all of the teams went to checkpoint number 1 first. Then Kelsey and I deviated from the pack and ran straight down a steep ridge to start searching for checkpoint 3. After number 3 we were the first to make it to checkpoint 20 (worth the most points) and as such I left a yellow C + K unavoidably close to the checkpoint as a calling card. This was a trend that I somehow managed to uphold for 5 of the 20 checkpoints, though admittedly the initials got smaller and smaller.
Team Gnarvest - also did I mention that I"m always somehow #31? (Brad Jennings Photo)
We got a bit mixed up and lost in the northern boundary of the map for what seemed like forever, but eventually got our bearings and got up to checkpoint number 5, which was inside a massive cedar tree. This is where things went bad for us
"Hey Chris, pass me the punchcard"
"Dude you had the punchcard"
"You're right, Uh oh."
Now we were on the hunt for a white punchcard in the snow, which could have been anywhere as we had run probably 2km since the last time that we punched it. We gave a solid effort of backtracking and scanning the ground, desperately looking for the punchcard as the other teams kept finding checkpoints and filling in theirs. Eventually we just had to call it and get back on track, we figure that we could just punch the map, and if we went really really fast we may be able to still cover a lot of ground.
We may have screwed things up, but at least our uniform was on point
(Just had to get rid of the turtle necks) (Brad Jennings Photo)
This extra pressure brought Kelsey and I to another level of speed (our fastest km in the 3 hour, 20km race was 4:18 on snow and ice) and focus, using the compass and map to pinpoint our next destination with surprising accuracy.
Teamwork and interpretive dance (Brad Jennings Photo)
With Matata Hakuna, teamwork never looked like so much fun (Brad Jennings Photo)
Teamwork was necessary in a lot of different ways during this race; and we did a great job working together. When the bush got too thick we would leapfrog and point a bearing to a tree if we couldn't keep a straight line, re adjusting as we went. Kelsey even helped me up some of the icy hills (his shoes have carbide spikes in them, where mine do not), these were fun times because we got to hold hands and run up hills together <3. We crossed over frozen water, through the locks north of Peterborough, over tall barbed wire fences, through thick bush, and back to Trent University to be the second team back, managing to get to all checkpoints with 11 minutes to spare. Being the second team back, we got to cheer our friends in.
Kels and I aren't that cute
After the points were tallied (and our 100 points were deducted), it was quite close, but Kelsey and I came out on top with a 10 point lead over second place. Matata Hakuna explored their way into third place for the day, and we all felt pretty great. We worked hard for it, and it was pretty sweet to get to do such a fun race like this, Sure we got soakers, and it was a bit frustrating sometimes being unable to find the checkpoint or being too far off, but we didn't give up and were the only team to get to every checkpoint. Afterward we had a massive sushi lunch at an all you can eat sushi place in Peterborough, and I can't think of a better ending to any story.
I'm sure that everyone has a couple of friends that tend to get them in over their heads. I mean we always have a crazy good fun time, and it's always worth it, but lots of lessons are learned along the way. There was of course the last Adirondack trip, or the impromptu obstacle race, and now backpacking in the snowcovered Adirondacks again. It was another one of those Thursdays, you're not quite sure what you're doing this weekend and you get the call. We had been thinking of doing a trip to the Adirondacks, but there's that transition season between when it's cold, but still traversible with regular gear, and when there's enough snow that you an grip the mountain side again. That window in between is just icy, and not ideal for a big trip.
Luckily for us, the Adirondacks were just getting tons of snow, and conditions were prime for a winter camping and backpacking trip in the mountains. My friends came up Friday night to Kingston and did the responsible thing of going to a party and being DD. After a late night, we got up quite early that morning and headed straight for the border in Kelsey's new car. The border guard was less than impressed with the vomit all over the side of the car (by-product of being DD), but I guess that really wasn't a good enough reason to keep us out of the country.
Cleaning off the side of the car upon arrival just outside of Lake Placid
The first day of hiking we managed 3 different mountains, and had fantastic conditions. Sure it was quite windy at the top, and the fresh snow led to a soaker only an hour in for me, but at least it wasn't too cold to manage!
Nicer conditions when you're still in the tree cover
Hanging out in these winds at the tops of the mountains was fun, but cold!
Coming down these trails was some of the most fun and hard to control hiking/running that I had ever done. The goal is always speed, and the trails are so steep that running down the hills ends up being almost like freefalling down the mountain, planting your feet where you get the opportunity to steer yourself and slow down a little bit. Then having a big pack loaded on your back puts you a bit off balance, so it's all about calculated risks and trying to keep up I guess!
Walking up the creeks made for extreme danger of soakers
the trails that we had planned to tackle to get up the summits of the mountains had a general trend: they were partially frozen creeks. The area that we were is a conservation area in the mountain range, so as opposed to cut a lot of nice big trails up the mountains, some trails follow creek beds. This makes for the added challenge extra steep and unpredictable trail, as well as the odd wet foot hole. But the views were always worth it.
Stretching it out on the mountain top in front of the stunning scenery
After a couple of different mountain climbs we were all still smiling, not really wearing out too much yet, and Kelsey mentioned how we had had such a great, relaxed day. Matt reminded him that we had been almost running through snow for about five and a half hours, wow, time flies.
We hunkered into a "lean to" for the night, and I wasn't sure what I was expecting. I knew what I was afraid that a lean to would be, but surely it wouldn't be so bad.
Cute, right?
And with a view!
We were starting to get cold after close to 8 hours of hiking in the snow, stopping only to eat chocolate bars, and this didn't seem like a very warm place to be. Luckily I had some dehydrated food and Jack Daniels to warm me up.
It turned out that I was sorely unprepared for the sleeping part of winter camping. JD led me into a false sense of warmth, but my sleeping mat had a hole in it which didn't help, and my sleeping bag was a 3 season bag, plus I only brought stuff that keeps you warm while you're running, and a flannel shirt. We hunkered in for sleep around 6pm, and got up at 7:30, which is a long time to be in the cold without moving. Precautions that one must take when they've sunken a boot into water, or are doing crazy endurance stuff is to make sure that the boots are not a frozen block in the morning, and to do the same for your water bladder. This means that inside my sleeping bag was me, my boots, and my water bladder. Outside my sleeping bag was the great outdoors, and something like -20C.
By the time the dawn came up I had waited patiently, contemplating every possible piece of gear that I would bring to the next winter camping trip - or just to go bury myself in the snow for the night. I got us up a the crack of dawn, and we got ready to make some oatmeal and get moving. Unfortunately we forgot the oatmeal, so it was another day of eating chocolate bars, my favourite!
We walked down to the nearest creek, broke through the ice and started filling our bladders with water for the day. my hose froze in a couple of minutes, so in order for e to have access to water that day, I had to keep the whole bladder inside my coat next to my body. Once we got moving, it took several hours, but my right foot stopped being so numb! This was a bonus.
Watch the ledge! Cool canyon that we hiked alongside in the morning.
It took us more than 40 minutes to hike to the sunlight, but it was a beautiful clear day!
The thing about such a wonderful, clear day is that it is inevitably cold. And windy. It was so exciting to actually see around me this day, and not have whiteout conditions, and the 100km/h gusts at the top of the mountains were something that I hadn't experienced either.
Kelsey leaning into the wind, Matt looking the other way
Bros on the top of a mountain
Looking forward (we climbed this steep stuff for an hour)
Looking back (so steep of a slope that the trees aren't really in the way of nice pictures)
I seriously enjoyed this trip, and the frost bite and lost toenail are a small price to pay to be introduced to such a great winter passtime. I've invested in some proper stuff to camp with and backpack in the winter, and next time, I'll be ready!
The past week and a half I've been travelling around with my lovely girlfriend and our bikes, with the goal of finishing inside the top 20 at Nationals. First we set off for Sudbury, which is close to 8 hours drive from where we live in Kingston. The visit to Sudbury was great, I got to hang with some of my all time best buds and the trails were phenomenal, my racing however left something to be desired. I was super strong in flat and uphill sections, but for some reason, I couldn't find my mojo in the rest of the course. Friends said that I looked strong technically through the descents and spectator sections, but I just wasn't going fast enough. To me, the bad race didn't really matter - I was having problems gripping my bars without my gloves, I had to get off and fix my bike once, and most of all, I felt strong again. Any uphill or flat section where I could lay down some good effort I accelerated away from riders nearby, this means that I was in good shape for Nationals 6 days later.
I got down south and practiced the nationals course until I had it pretty well dialed in. I would be racing the elite, 6 lap race at Hardwood Ski and Bike on what will be the Pan American course for the upcoming competitions in 2015. The course had a lot of really cool and intimidating features, and plenty of places to hurt yourself...
This may seem over the top, but it's great!
Unfortunately, Thursday night just before Tori was participating in the Eliminator race, I took a bit of a spill. I came at a feature called "Endo Rock" at a way higher speed than I should have and got off balance mid air. I crashed down about 20 feet after I took off, smashing my chest on my handlebars, and skidding my head along the ground until I hit a log. This left me gasping for air for what seemed like an eternity, and my helmet was cracked in 14 places. I managed to get back on my bike and ride it down the jump track somehow, to make sure that I wouldn't miss Tori's race. When I got there everybody could see that something was wrong; I had blood down the side of my face, my eye was swollen almost shut, I couldn't stand up straight, and breathing pained me a lot. I had the medics on my case right away, checking to see if I had broken my neck, and trying to get me somewhere more stable. I had to watch Tori's race, however so I was a bit of a pain for these guys. I agreed to get out of my spandex, sit down and ice my ribs, but I was not leaving the action until all of my friends had finished racing.
After the racing had finished, my girlfriend and her mother took me in to the big hospital in Barrie (about 20 minutes away), and this was an ordeal. They rushed me straight to the trauma unit, and took 3 vials of blood, got a urine sample, and hooked me up to IV. This was all even more complicated that it should have been because I was quite dehydrated, and the nurses had to work hard to get the needles and tubes into my small blood veins. But I was not allowed food or drink, so that's just that. I was like a child in the hospital, arguing a bit over the IV especially (I don't like morphine), but I've learned that nurses, no matter what, get things their way. This massive intrusion was because they were pretty sure that by the sounds of things I could have damaged my liver or other organs in the area.
All smiles all of the time
The doctor finally got me X-rayed and decided that my organs were fine. Upon looking at the X-rays he showed me what looked like a cracked rib, and explained that the x-rays that he used weren't the highest quality, so we can't really tell what's broken or not but he figured that I'd cracked a couple of ribs and done lots of damage to my cartilage and musculature in the area too. Turns out that they don't really treat cracked ribs anyway, so I just had to wait for a nurse to take my IV out and I would be on my way. The nurse was a no nonsense kind of girl, and when I made mention of the size of my IV tube, she admitted that they put the biggest one in me and pulled it out quickly.
I got talked out of competing in the Nationals race by some good friends, but was pretty bummed to miss my chance, and to come so far and train so much without racing, but at least I could still support my friends while they raced! I'm just really bummed that it shoes a big DNF for "Did Not Finish" beside my name on the results, I hate those..
The next day I was actually recruited to help Pedal Mag with live feed of the race to their website, and got VIP media treatment for the weekend! It was nice to have something to do, and great to be involved, this way I could cheer (though yelling hurt), and do help the magazine all at the same time!
The past week and a half have seen a major bike project and a surprisingly fun bike race, so first, the project: to build my own set of carbon wheels. I had broken my rear race wheel with one bad hit while "Gnarvesting" for a weekend with Kelsey at Sir Sam's and was in need of wheels that were once again round. Hopefully some that would stay that way for a long time, but still be light enough to be competitive at the highest level of cross country competition. Also this had to be done on a budget since all costs related to biking basically go into the pile that is the debt that I'll be paying back after I graduate. Chris right now wants good wheels, future Chris who's paying them off may not be so impressed, that kind of thing. So I optimistically bought some carbon wheels from China, and patiently waited for them to be built and to arrive.
The first criteria of a cheap wheel rebuild was that I was only replacing the rims; spokes and hubs had to come from my old wheels. Secondly, I can't afford to pay someone else to build them for me - so I had to do the labor myself. To use the same spokes and hubs I had to get an oversized 30 mm wide set of rims, they're seriously badass, and bigger means better right? At least they're stiffer and should hopefully last longer. It took me most of my Canada Day weekend, but BAM! I have some sweet sweet wheels who's street value may be close to $1600 if they had a name brand on them, and I'm happy about that!
As for riding the new wheels, well they're still round! I love how firm my bike feels when I'm doing technical bits of trail and going off drops or high speed turns or any combination thereof. The bad thing is that I already have one of the stiffest raciest frames on the market (Trek Superfly SL), and with these new carbon rims, I feel the trail a lot! Sure they're fast, but in flat trail where I'd like to sit down that has lots of roots and stuff, my back really takes a pounding. I'll have to grow into them I guess?
Living in Kingston, Ontario has me within a 2 hour drive to the Quebec border, and I needed to tune my legs up and get a feel for them after the problematic month and a half I've been having. I packed up the car, brought the best support I could get, and went to the Camp Fortune Quebec Cup.
Tori gave me a new bottle every lap, and stood out in 30 degree sun, thanks!
The course was super fun - not really much double track, just wide technical trail where you could make some tactical passes - but I saw a few that didn't go so well. I got to the race start a bit later but I heard them calling names so I figured that I'd be called up the same place no matter what. I heard my name said with a thick french accent and thought, "Finally, some respect!" as I grabbed my bike lifted it up high and began to make my way to the front of the group. Everybody stared at me and nobody was making way, when I heard "Do you understand french?" This is attendance." I guess that I wasn't going to get that call up after all...
Once the race had started I wasted no time in getting into the top 10 and riding quickly up the trails alongside the ski hill.
Sneaking up the side
Through the first lap it became apparent that the guys who had raced this course before knew a lot more about how to work the course through the race, and which lines were best to ride. I lost track of the guys ahead of me and was playing cat and mouse with someone trying to catch from behind, trying to keep my pace up through the downhill. By the end of the first lap I had been passed by someone, but I was going into the second lap (of 5) in good position. As I started working my way through the incredibly hot switchback section, unfortunately I had a bike malfunction which took a minute to fix, and lost me a couple of positions.
Keep reading to find out about the dirt on the shoulder, the blood on my knee, and the hole in my shorts!
After fixing my bike and riding on my own for a bit, I noticed that a couple of junior (17-18yr old) riders were catching me from behind, so I slacked my pace and let them pass me so that I could have some riders to pace with. The juniors were a treat while passing me; there was a small section of trail that was maybe wide enough to pass somebody, followed by a 90 degree turn to a steep, wide uphill section. As I was in the first section that I had just mentioned, one junior snuck by me, while the other was yelling for me to get out of the way. Obviously my plan was to wait for about 3 seconds to where the trail widened up enough for the 3 of us to ride side by side and then let them by and ride as the 3rd rider in a train. Junior #1 however in his great rush and excitement fell down in front of me as we were turning into the steep hill, I handily dodged sideways, but junior #2 behind me hit the other kid on the ground, and they took another few minutes to get by me.
Once they had caught me again I was surprised to see that these were not the smooth riders to follow that I was hoping for, but their panicked and excited style of racing kept me going quick - I just needed to give them their space. As we were sprinting along a slightly downhill and rocky section of trail, my chain magically popped apart, and I went down HARD. I pulled the seat out of the left side of my bum and found my chain, wrapped around a tree about 4 feet off the ground. I put the chain back on the bike and realized that it was my quick link that had come out - the one special link in my chain that could be taken apart by hand with no tool. I was a bit confused by his but took my time in putting things back together, got on the bike, and decided to ride a high tempo for the remainder of the race (the weather was 30+ degrees and the following 2 weekends are national level races, no need to over stress my body).
I rode in to a solid 13th place, and had a great time racing at Camp Fortune. It was also great to have some additional support from my buddy Alan, who brought his super cute 1 year old boy
