The Big Day (Part One)

    Okay, my Epic 250K is now 6 days in the past. I've had time to ruminate, but not a moment to sit down and write, until now. I will start at the beginning.
    Of course I had a hard time sleeping the night before, but fortunately had gotten in a solid 9 hours the previous night. The morning of the race I had my alarm set for 4:00 am, so I would have plenty of time to have a light breakfast of smoothie and toast (Oudi's gluten free white bread, almost zero fiber).... Okay, I think I need to step back even a bit earlier. For a sold 48 hours before the race I ate a high energy, low fiber diet. As a matter of fact, the last few weeks leading up to the race I dialed in my nutrition to near perfection. I ate nutrient dense foods, plenty of fresh fruits and veggies, raw almonds, eggs, good carbs, little sugar, no refined foods. Every meal, every snack was consumed with the knowledge that I was pumping my body with rocket fuel. The only slight flaw in my planning was the day before the race, there was so much running around to be done that I did not eat quite as regularly as I could have wished. Yes, I had a specatularly large breakfast of French toast (again, Oudi's GF bread) with agave nectar, and a high protein smoothie. Then, with foresight, I packed a bag with bananas, almonds, Clif Mojo Bars, a few electrolyte capsules, and plenty of water. So, although I could have eaten a bit better, I definitely did myself no harm.
    Okay, back to race morning. With my alarm set for 4:00 am, of course I woke at 3:15, after a night of decent, though fitful sleep. I felt good, started coffee, made myself eat, and was out the door and headed for the school that was both the launching point for the bus ride to T1, and the start and finish for the run. I was on the second bus out, and had a pleasant seat mate, a woman from Moscow, Idaho who was doing the Epic125. We chatted for a while, as did most of the other athletes on the bus. About halfway through the 45 minute ride though, we all fell silent. I know I was inside my head, focusing inward, keeping calm, letting my mind roam over what my day would be like, and I am sure that the 40 other athletes were all doing the same. Just as we approached the turn to Cultus Lake there was a weird light through the fog ahead of us. Only 6 of us saw it. It looked like headlights coming up behind a hill, reflecting on the fog, but that is not what it was. We had no idea what it was, really, we joked about UFOs coming to steal us out of the water. I took it as a good sign.
    Once we arrived I went and checked Joshua, making sure his tires had stayed inflated overnight (not everyone was so lucky). I filled my bento bag with the tube of honey, salt sticks, chap stick, and eye drops, and put my water bottles in place. My bike was ready.
    Then I went into the changing tent, a gloriously warm accommodation that was a pleasant new addition this year. Since there were only 8 women doing the 250K and we had plenty of space we made the decision to lay out our cycling gear, instead of having to dump it out of a bag and sort through it after the swim. Then it was time to gear up. I felt a tiny bit sheepish with all my extra gear to fend off the cold, I was definitely more heavily dressed than anyone else there. As a matter of fact, one woman did the swim without a wetsuit. I was stunned to see her and wondered if she would make it, but she had a good swim and finished the race in good time. The water was colder than I had expected, and I had expected it to be cold. We had to swim out about 100 yards to the swim start, and I needed every bit of that time to adjust. There were 85 of us, so I was told, a nice crowd. The sky was pale blue with wispy orange clouds, the sun had yet to show itself over the eastern mountains when the starting horn blared. We plunged into the frigid, clear mountain lake and swam. The water was crystal clear, I could see the bottom of the lake with absolute clarity. At one point I swam through a cluster of volcanic boulders that seemed a bit too close for comfort, but were beautiful and gave me a sense of strength. About halfway down the length of the first lap the sun crested over the surrounding pine trees and blazed gloriously, turning the water golden. It was a breathtaking moment, and I knew that there was no place else in the whole world that I would rather have been than right there, at that very moment. I took that feeling and held it in my heart and mind for the rest of the day.
    The swim, 5K, 3.1 miles, was glorious. I felt strong and smooth. There were a few very brief moments when I lost my rhythm for a split second, either from getting hit with a wave up the nose, having another swimmer run into me, or having to reorient myself on the next buoy. The buoys seemed few and far between, making it difficult to stay on course a few times. And the first 1/4 of the swim seemed the longest (doesn't it always?). I barely remember finishing the first lap, when we had to come out of the water and cross the electronic sensor that would guarantee that we did our second lap. I do remember getting back into my rhythm though, and feeling smooth and easy as I headed out for the second lap. I felt a bit cool, but not cold,. Not for one split second did I regret my extra gear. I felt really strong in my swim, and my pacing seemed perfect. I never felt fatigued or stressed. I did stay with the pack, though towards the rear. It was a truly great swim for me. As I headed down the homestretch, I did have a little trouble finding the swim out and had to keep popping up to find out where I was exactly, then once I saw it for sure I made a strong beeline for the ramp. I do know there were about a dozen 250K swimmers behind me, so I felt damned good to not be the last one (as I have been in the past). As my feet hit solid ground and I started climbing out of the water I realized that I was far colder than I had thought during my swim. In the early stages of hypothermia I was disoriented and off-balance, what we would refer to as "an altered mental state" in EMS terms. As I slow jogged towards the changing tent I began to shiver, and my teeth started to chatter. By the time I got to my cycling gear I was shaking so hard I could barely get out of my wetsuit. There was another woman changing gear and she was in a similar state. We talked, kind of checking up on each other, and I realized that I was slurring my speech. As I fumbled into my gear I decided I needed some fuel so grabbed a Clif Shot, my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold onto the little packet of sugary goo. Part of my mind was appalled, and part of it was fascinated. I have never been so cold in my life. I did have the concern that now I was going to have to get on a bike and ride, without crashing, with my brain and body in such a state. The muscles in my neck and shoulders were tightening so hard from the cold and exertion that I could barely turn my head. The next few minutes would be interesting.
    I did manage to get fully dressed, without forgetting anything, get all my swim gear stuffed into the red bag so it would be transported back to Bend and be waiting for me after the race, and get to my bike. All without damaging myself or breaking anything. Once I was on Joshua I focused all my mental energy on relaxing, cycling easy to let my muscles warm up, and trying very hard to not crash. It took about 8 miles for my teeth to stop chattering, and another 20 before I was warm enough to shed a layer of clothing. But I felt great. My energy was high, my body felt fantastic, and it was a gloriously beautiful, perfect day. But with another 110 miles of cycling ahead of me, my favorite Star Wars quote for such a situation kept popping into my head, "Don't get cocky, kid."
     To be continued.....