I have been humbled yet again by multisport. Yesterday, I competed in my first Xterra race, a .5/13/5K race in Hanna Park in Jacksonville, Fla. As I mentioned in a post Friday, I had never ridden a mountain bike offroad in my life, so I kind of figured I was in for a surprise. If only I had known what I was getting into . . .
The swim was fine. Half mile in the ocean with the current. No biggie there. I actually had an excellent swim, and finished about two minutes faster than I thought I would. Of the three disciplines, swimming is my strongest. When I finish the swim, I'm usually in the company of some pretty good cyclists. That's not a problem on the road; there's plenty of room for them to pass me on the asphalt. On technical single track, this problem is compounded. Add to that the fact that I had no idea what to expect when I got on the bike and you can see the potential problems arising.
I hit the trail at a pretty good clip, and after about 10 seconds realized that I was in trouble. I don't know how the Hanna Park trails compare with others as far as their difficulty goes. But to me, the trails were very technical and hard. It did not take long before I had several cyclists behind me trying to pass. Some of these people were going for high places in their age groups, and I was only in the way. When people came up behind me, I'd just pull over and let them pass. It was a three loop bike course, and after the first loop and a half, most of the more skilled riders had gone past me, so I could settle in and enjoy the ride. Also, I had kind of figured out the trail by the time the third loop came around, and I was much more comfortable on the trails. Without people breathing down my neck, I could concentrate on holding my lines and staying out of trouble.
I also learned that I am totally devoid of bike handling skills. Mountain biking appears to be as dependent on bike handling skills and timing as much as it is on fitness. I had the fitness to do well, but I didn't have the skills. Knowing your bike, gearing, and when and where to shift on the course is also key to mountain biking success. Maybe you don't have to know the particular trails you're on front and back, but you must be well versed in the sport enough to recognize trends in the terrain and be able to anticipate what's coming next. Me, I was clueless. I ran into trees, I stumbled trying to ride over roots, I had no idea how to mold the bike with the rest of my body. Paul Sherwen likes to comment how a rider is "one with his machine." I was not one with my machine. Not by a long shot.
I survived the bike course, much to my surprise, and headed out on the run. I felt like I was flying. I actually felt good running, and I started passing people. A number of the competitors were walking, which surprised me. It was dreadfully hot, but the shade of the trails provided shelter from some of the heat. The run course meandered through the woods and came out over sand dunes and onto the beach, where we had to run about 50 yards across the sand, up a boardwalk and to finish. By the time I hit the sand dunes, I was toast. I couldn't run in all that loose sand, so I just started walking. I had figured on a half hour for the run. I finished in just over 37:00.
I had my most spectacular crash on the run. At about the 24:00 mark of my run, I tripped on a root and went down hard. I folded up like an accordion in the center of the trail. I jumped up quickly and continued.
In the end, I finished slow, near the back of the pack, dirty and bleeding. I didn't have any trail shoes, so I just used an old pair of road shoes in my closet. When I finished, I just threw the shoes in the trash. They weren't worth cleaning up.
The Xterra vibe was cool. The atmosphere and the competitors were laid back. When I pulled over and let people pass, they all thanked me and moved on. No one berated me for being in the way. The race started a half hour late, which didn't seem to be a big deal to the organizers. It was kind of like, "Well, we've still got people registering, so we'll get started when we get started." And I didn't hear any grumbling from the participants. That being said, the racing was fierce. It was the most intense race I've done. The level of concentration and the attention to the course made the race a mental exercise as well as one of physical fitness.
I have a newfound respect for Xterra athletes and mountain bikers. I was very impressed by the skills of the seasoned competitors. In contrast, I felt like Rasmussen on the bike, and it didn't improve much on the run. But I survived, and I would consider doing another Xterra race in the future. Only now, I know what I'm getting into.
Just for the record, here are my splits: 14:28 swim (that's including a long jog into transition; I came up out of the water in 12:30), 1:39 bike, 37:30 "run." Total time, including transitions, was 2:36:32. Yes, it was a very humbling experience indeed. A road triathlon of that distance would have taken me about 1:15.
RP
The swim was fine. Half mile in the ocean with the current. No biggie there. I actually had an excellent swim, and finished about two minutes faster than I thought I would. Of the three disciplines, swimming is my strongest. When I finish the swim, I'm usually in the company of some pretty good cyclists. That's not a problem on the road; there's plenty of room for them to pass me on the asphalt. On technical single track, this problem is compounded. Add to that the fact that I had no idea what to expect when I got on the bike and you can see the potential problems arising.
I hit the trail at a pretty good clip, and after about 10 seconds realized that I was in trouble. I don't know how the Hanna Park trails compare with others as far as their difficulty goes. But to me, the trails were very technical and hard. It did not take long before I had several cyclists behind me trying to pass. Some of these people were going for high places in their age groups, and I was only in the way. When people came up behind me, I'd just pull over and let them pass. It was a three loop bike course, and after the first loop and a half, most of the more skilled riders had gone past me, so I could settle in and enjoy the ride. Also, I had kind of figured out the trail by the time the third loop came around, and I was much more comfortable on the trails. Without people breathing down my neck, I could concentrate on holding my lines and staying out of trouble.
I also learned that I am totally devoid of bike handling skills. Mountain biking appears to be as dependent on bike handling skills and timing as much as it is on fitness. I had the fitness to do well, but I didn't have the skills. Knowing your bike, gearing, and when and where to shift on the course is also key to mountain biking success. Maybe you don't have to know the particular trails you're on front and back, but you must be well versed in the sport enough to recognize trends in the terrain and be able to anticipate what's coming next. Me, I was clueless. I ran into trees, I stumbled trying to ride over roots, I had no idea how to mold the bike with the rest of my body. Paul Sherwen likes to comment how a rider is "one with his machine." I was not one with my machine. Not by a long shot.
I survived the bike course, much to my surprise, and headed out on the run. I felt like I was flying. I actually felt good running, and I started passing people. A number of the competitors were walking, which surprised me. It was dreadfully hot, but the shade of the trails provided shelter from some of the heat. The run course meandered through the woods and came out over sand dunes and onto the beach, where we had to run about 50 yards across the sand, up a boardwalk and to finish. By the time I hit the sand dunes, I was toast. I couldn't run in all that loose sand, so I just started walking. I had figured on a half hour for the run. I finished in just over 37:00.
I had my most spectacular crash on the run. At about the 24:00 mark of my run, I tripped on a root and went down hard. I folded up like an accordion in the center of the trail. I jumped up quickly and continued.
In the end, I finished slow, near the back of the pack, dirty and bleeding. I didn't have any trail shoes, so I just used an old pair of road shoes in my closet. When I finished, I just threw the shoes in the trash. They weren't worth cleaning up.
The Xterra vibe was cool. The atmosphere and the competitors were laid back. When I pulled over and let people pass, they all thanked me and moved on. No one berated me for being in the way. The race started a half hour late, which didn't seem to be a big deal to the organizers. It was kind of like, "Well, we've still got people registering, so we'll get started when we get started." And I didn't hear any grumbling from the participants. That being said, the racing was fierce. It was the most intense race I've done. The level of concentration and the attention to the course made the race a mental exercise as well as one of physical fitness.
I have a newfound respect for Xterra athletes and mountain bikers. I was very impressed by the skills of the seasoned competitors. In contrast, I felt like Rasmussen on the bike, and it didn't improve much on the run. But I survived, and I would consider doing another Xterra race in the future. Only now, I know what I'm getting into.
Just for the record, here are my splits: 14:28 swim (that's including a long jog into transition; I came up out of the water in 12:30), 1:39 bike, 37:30 "run." Total time, including transitions, was 2:36:32. Yes, it was a very humbling experience indeed. A road triathlon of that distance would have taken me about 1:15.
RP