I love Crusher in the Tushar, but I’ve yet to crack it’s code. In all honesty, maybe that’s partially why I love the race so much. To me, there is something so beautiful about the pursuit. I love the challenge of these long races. It feels poetic and it feels poetic whether you’re having the race of your life or problem solving all day. I’m not very artistic, but I almost imagine that the way I feel out on these courses is the way an artist feels as they work on their next masterpiece. It’s a spiritual experience.

It’s a beautiful thing to press into the fear of wondering if the pace is too hot, but attempting it anyway. It’s empowering to completely blow up, but never give up and see how quickly you can pick up the pieces to have your second wind. And finally, when you reach the end of your rope it’s so satisfying to see just how far you can push your body even when you think you have nothing left. These things are not unique to the professional field, every single athlete on the course has the opportunity to experiences these things and then at the finish line we all get to share the stories. Here is my story from Saturday:

As the race started in the brisk air on Saturday morning we all joked about how we better enjoy the cold temperatures now because in just a few hours we would be begging to have them back. As the race rolled out, we started slow, really slow. Starting on the road there wasn’t much of an advantage to pushing the pace so we all seemed pretty content with just cruising along in a group. Two women on the Cinch team sent a flyer up the side of the road, but the tactic was silly and didn’t even trick anyone into chasing. No one even hesitated. We all just let them go.

8 miles into the 10 mile road start, the men, who started 5 minutes behind us, caught us. This was 4 miles earlier than they caught us last year which drastically changed the outcome of the race. Looking at my Stages power file you can see the moment the men caught us as our power increased drastically and all of us women had to jump to get into the draft of the fastest men’s group we could manage. As the 2 hour climb continued onward, the women’s group splintered with all of the women getting mixed into the men’s field. I eventually found a conservative and consistent pace on my own and plugged away, eventually hearing that I was in 7th place. Based on my sensations I felt really good about that, confident that I was going to get stronger throughout the race and would eventually find myself on the podium. I did have one looming fear though… As weird as it is and I hesitate to even share this because maybe it’s TMI but I think it’s real so I’m going to and I hope it benefits someone else as well. I really had to pee! The entire first 2 hour climb I really needed to pee, but I couldn’t risk loosing places or my rhythm to stop to do it so I just kept going. Unfortunately that meant that my bladder was so full that I couldn’t tolerate drinking more fluids and when I finally did have the opportunity to relieve myself I was deep in the hole hydration wise.

I held onto 7th place until about 3 hour into the race when the road started turning upward again for the massive climb toward the finish. Temperatures soared into the 90s and the road was fully exposed. I began to feel the effects of the heat and my legs cramped and my head felt dizzy. I gritted my teeth and continued on even as I bled positions. I was confident that eventually a second wind would come. It did! It came 10 miles from the finish line as a volunteer asked to dump ice water on my head at one of the aid stations. The rapid cooling of my body gave me knew life and I geared up (literally) to reclaim my positions I had lost.

I was well on my way when I made a grave mistake. I was tired and my head was down and I made a wrong turn. I thought that the course went right, but I saw an arrow that went left and didn’t want to question it, so I went left. In hind sight, I think it was a permanent hiking arrow and not associated with the race. Luckily, my Stages Dash blinked and told me I was off course, but by the time I turned around and got back on course, I had lost nearly 2 minutes and even more positions. I was devastated. Even so, there was no time for that emotion. I sent one last Hail Mary attempt to get back on track and make up lost places. I completely emptied myself and my body gave out about a mile before the finish. I threw my front wheel over the line and collapsed onto the group, getting cold water dumped all over my body. I finished 14th and 11th in the Grand Prix. It’s not the position I came for and I’m disappointed in that, but that wasn’t my primary goal of the race. I wanted to use this as an opportunity to get the mistakes out of the way before Leadville and I feel that I very much achieved that. Money in the bank, or hay in the barn as they say. And despite it all, I had FUN!