[This picture was taken in Maui, where our group was ready to bomb down the side of the 10,000-foot volcano...happy to report NO tears shed on this trip!]
In my first mountain-biking race, I got miserably lost. My second racing attempt was as part of Team Lamprey, a three-person adventure-racing team. There, I learned the hard way that what goes up, well, keeps going up…and up…here, the do’s and don’ts of adventure-racing.
DO choose your battles. It had gotten to the point of no return. It happens in every race, whether it’s a 5K or 5-hour adventure race: tears. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated, euphoric—and usually a combination thereof—it doesn’t matter why, I can usually find any excuse to tear up. My point in this particular race was, after inching up and up and up on one of those subtle “is it just my imagination, or are we going uphill?” fire-lane road, we navigated a wrong turn, and had to backtrack—straight up again. Now, I’d kept a stiff upper lip for hours of hiking through brush and kayaking, but every girl has her breaking point. After we returned to the fire lane of hell, I knew I’d have to make a tough decision: cry or cycle? I couldn’t do both. Think about it—when you’re already struggling to breathe, adding some sniffling to the mix is not what you need.
Lesson learned: In the sob-or-cycle battle, something simply has to give. Cycle now, cry later.
DON’T memorize the course: Sometimes, it helps to be clueless about your course, because if I had really known what I was in for (which was a nifty 2,000-foot mountain-bike climb), I wouldn’t have been able to stop the tear-shedding. In the end, you see, it’s really better for everyone if you don’t dwell on petty little to-do items like how much further is it holymotherofpearl I can’t go on like this for the love of God. Instead, it’s a good time to practice your Zen and Be Here Now rather than “when am I going to get this over with”.
Lesson Learned: Channel your inner Buddha when facing an insane-in the-membrane race course.
DO pick your teammates wisely. Team Lamprey consisted of two buddies in the form of Pete and Kev. They were a perfect combo—Pete always appeared magically at my side when I was struggling but didn’t make it seem like he was doing it on purpose, whereas Kev plowed ahead and set the pace so we wouldn’t slack. Kev is the type of guy who never lets anyone see him sweat (I’ve told him before that I’m not entirely sure he’s human), so imagine my surprise to hear in the distance, up one more turn as Pete and I snaked our way up the mountain…. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Yesss, every man has his breaking point, and the course had found his.
Lesson learned: If you survived a course hard enough for typically tight-lipped dudes to feel the pain, you’ve earned bragging rights.
