The Epic Bike Ride

Triathletes are always looking for ways to shave time off their races. When I get to that level of racing I’m guessing the first place I’ll look is at my 5 minute transition times. I like to have a snack, dry my hair a little, put on some socks etc. The catch is I know I’m going to be on the bike longer than most so I’d better be comfy. Thankfully the day before Marcy had made a comment about the bike course. I had looked at the map and hadn’t realized that before we head North we head South for a 10 mile loop. It would really have messed with my head if I hadn’t discovered this until volunteers started waving me in the opposite direction I had planned to go. It was a good way to start the bike, lots of people passing me (par for the course) but also the chance for a quick turn around and see that there were still a lot of people behind me too!

The bike is the most feared segment of the race for me. A lot of people had expressed their concern or dislike of the run course but all I could think was, “How bad can it be, you don’t have to do it on your bike!” My whole focus for this race was to survive the 56 miles, I wasn’t even thinking of the half marathon at the end. So we headed up to Haiwi and it’s a long way. Luckily there was lots to keep me occupied, bikers, a noisy rumble strip, lava rocks and thorns to watch out for. My game plan called for me to have a gel every half hour and as much water as I could get into me. I had discovered the Quick Stop on the Marine Corps Base sold the gels I liked for 99 cents so I loaded up. At the half hour mark I have my gel, one slug of it and I realize, “Oh, it’s the raspberry cream not the razz flavor I like. Shoot, this is going to be a really long day.” I had a water bottle on the front of my bike, a speed fill on the frame and a pink camel bak, which earned me some “Go pink backpack girl, go!” from spectators. I wanted to finish this race without crawling or getting dehydrated, primarily because my daughters don’t understand recovery and could care less if I made poor nutrition decisions on the race yesterday, Sponge Bob is on and breakfast needs to be served, NOW! So of course all this fluid going in means it has to come out and as previously mentioned I’m going to be on the bike easily an hour longer than my “competitors” so I need to make good decisions about whether sitting in my own urine makes sense to save me 2 minutes, yah it doesn’t. So I stop at the aid station, went potty, refilled my speedbottle and found a second wind.

The only problem was mentally I was ready for the turn around which didn’t come for another 20 miles of up hill climbing. I also finally caught sight of the fast bikers heading back down the hill. I did some quick math and realized it would probably be at least 45 minutes until I was where they were now, ugh. Also at this point the gusts of wind are appearing out of nowhere and blowing me around. I’ve got my body contoured so that I’m driving into the wind sideways in hopes of minimizing my lateral travel. In the end it was more of a mental attack than a physical one but it did shake me up a little bit. Finally after much wondering what I was doing and would the turn around ever come, it did! So I got off to pee!

The week before the race I noticed one of my cables had slipped out of the groove so I took it to a bike shop to get an assessment if it was an actual problem or not to worry about it. The mechanic quickly popped it into place and sent me on my way. However when I rode afterwards it no longer shifted, hmm, that can’t be good. So I tried a different bike shop. They tweaked it and told me there wasn’t a problem and thoughtfully explained to me how to shift the gears on my bike of 10 years. Grrr. This is not going well. After the second “tune up” the gears at least shifted but boy did they complain about it! So my game plan for the bike, shift as little as possible. I know, I know but what can you do? So I’m heading down this volcano, with Joy’s advice ringing in my ears, “No brakes!” frantically praying to God or the deities of the Big Island as I’m unclear on jurisdiction and am not in a position to tick anyone off when I attempt to shift for a rolling hill and my chain falls off. Dang it. I’m not 100% sure I know how to put it back on but I have traditionally learned most of my bike mechanic skills in the middle of a race so I take a stab at it and successfully manage to get it back on, whew!

So I take off again, and this time manage to pass someone, of course she’s walking her bike but she still has a race number so that’s all that matters. I call out and ask if she’s okay and she says, “Salt, I need salt.” Hmm, I don’t have any, I tell her but then realize I do have some bloks so I pull over to go back and hand them to her when another biker arrives on the scene who does have salt tablets so I take off. I’m sure at this point many triathletes (if they’re even still reading) are shaking their heads. I think we’re actually not supposed to assist each other but its now the 3 hour mark, we are still far from T2 and it’s a different kind of race. Its not about slots, the drafting judges are long gone and they’re actually hoping we will draft if it means they can finally close the bike course. At this point none of us are really racing each other, we’re racing the clock and the course and our heads.

I do a mental check and I’m doing okay. I’m more than halfway there, I put my chain back on, I’m heading downhill and I’m not walking my bike on the side of the road begging for salt. I’m good to go. I just keep biking and start singing Queen’s song, “I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike”. We’re heading back, we’re on our way to the Fairmont and I’m so excited I’m actually passing people! I see Mike and smile for the camera. When I see the actual turn off to the Fairmont I start to giggle! Yahoo, its almost over. Hmm, except the 13 mile run. Bike time 3: 52, under 4, not the 3:30 I was dreaming of but I'm still moving!