bandera 25k
i wish i had a better story to tell you. the morning simply wasn't as storybook as i would have liked, and i'm now left to sort out the differences. if i had any say over the matter, the tale of bandera 2008 would have gone something like this...
[...]
although camping at the start line within the state park would have been a treat, a simple hotel on the outskirts of town would have to do. after all, bandera is a two-hour rural drive outside of austin, and a morning-of trip just wouldn't suffice.
wake up, drive to the park, get to the start with seconds to spare. the front pack confirmed what i read on the race website the week before: aside from kent, there was no one i recognized as a contender for the title. which ultimately, doesn't mean much of anything.
with six merciless climbs and decents on a very technical trail, i started out as conservative as possible. it was no intention of mine whatsoever to open a lead on the whole pack within the first five minutes.
armed with plenty of fluid, i remained patient and relaxed, expecting any surprise that may lay ahead... or may come from behind.
one surprise i did not expect came around mile 4, on a rare stretch of flat, innocuous trail. it wasn't even a momentary lapse of concentration: crusing around a 6:40 pace, my toe connected with an entrenched rock sending me for a hard, hard spill. first my knee, then my wrist, shoulder and chest came in contact with the ground. i felt my teeth clamp together as my chin crashed into a stone as progress came to a full stop. the stop was for but a second; i pushed myself up to my feet and pressed on while assessing the damage. my mouth and knee had no noticable pain, quelling my biggest fears. however, my knee, palm and chin were badly lacerated, covering me head-to-toe in blood. despite the sight, i saw no gushing. thus, i saw no reason to stop. my white singlet was my only source for cleansing my wounds while i ran.
around mile 6, the solitude was broken by a texas iron triathlete who passed me convincingly up a tamer incline. with plenty of gears available, i gave chase; we pressed on together. my counterpart broke the silence after ~1.5 miles:
"i have to back off this pace," he declared. "what's your name?"
i leared his name was jeff. and jeff dropped back. i throttled back as well, but not as much as jeff did, and returned to my solo race. i didn't know if i could take jeff's comments at face value (is he really fatigued? is he playing headgames?); i figured it made no difference. the only thing that could make a difference were the facts: there was someone behind me, and i'm officially a marked man.
the course was simply delicious: vertical, sustained ascents that peaked amongst barren rocks and strong winds; equally vertical decents setting you in a twisted basin of vegetation and humidity. fog muted the colors of the day, desaturating my memories of the course to monochrome. the occassional open view was peppered with sotol and other succulents, many of which crowded the trails and were simply unavoidable.
mile 10: the trail makes a sweeping u-turn, and i discover that my solitude has been an illusion. jeff is approximately 20 seconds behind me, and looks solid. with 5.5 miles to go, the race is on!
the trail enters thick woods, and i decide to lose jeff here. putting bursts of speed after every blind turn, i wanted to defeat jeff by surprising him with an extended lead the next time we saw each other.
we never saw each other again. out of the woods and heading towards the final climb, the acid began to set in my legs and the running became strenuous. with the pressure of the race on the line, i pushed forward. the final climb was horribly steep and ill-placed: i needed to walk the last 20-30 yards to the summit, upon which i was able to resume a solid pace. soiled in dust and dried blood, i push strong through the finish. i missed my time goal by seconds, but the satisfaction of a race well run overshadowed the numbers on the clock.
soon after, jeff and i congratulated each other on our runs; k and i went over to jeff's camp to clean up. i was a mess from the fall. i rubbed alcohol on my wounds as some loose dogs from a neighboring camp were trying to clean my knee via their own devices. as the adrenaline from the race wore off, my hand began stiffening rapidly with significant pain in my fifth metacarpal. moving my pinky was out of the question. with the help of a volunteer, i fashioned a splint out of cardboard and duct tape to help stabilize the injury. with a concentrated point of pain, i began worrying that something was broke. i sickened at the thought of boston and my training being thrown off-kilter. i just wanted to get home.
k and i didn't stay long. splint in place, we drove the two hours back into town. i went to the neighborhood hospital and got pictures of my hand. fortunately, there was nothing but an ignorable avulsive fracture in my hammate. which was no where near the location of my pain. ice, rest and NSAIDs were prescribed.
for what i was worried about, the x-rays came out negative. but after a race like that, one couldn't help but feel positive.
[...]
that was the chapter that i had hoped to write. the reality was that jeff actually closed (closed!) the gap as i raced the wooded blind turns, crushing my spirits and overtaking me for good with 3.5 miles to go. he ran a brilliant race.
like i said, i wish i had a better story to tell ya. viva bandera.
===========
bandera 25k
-----------
2:00:36
2nd overall
===========
race photos (photo #66)
post-race photos (photos #7-12)
Post a Comment