It is almost here. Next week will be race day.
I am scared.
I am anxious.
I am tired.
I am ready.
I've been working my ass off to get ready for this race and I am to the point that I want it done. I want my life back.
The last post I talked about heading out to Lake Placid. It was a wonderful weekend with friends. The weather was absolutely picture perfect and the ride was just as fucking scary as I thought it was going to be. Holy shitballs. The decent was horrifying and my hand was cramping from squeezing the brake so hard! The roads were beat up and there was no shoulder. At the bottom I had to check my bike shorts to make sure I didn't shit myself.
As if the first half wasn't bad enough the end totally kicked my ass. You know what goes down, must come back up. Yeah. That sucked. We climbed and climbed and climbed some more. I learned all the nicknames for the hills -- the 3 cherries -- you can probably guess why. After the cherries were baby, mama and papa bear. Papa bear is a serious asshole.
The ride was a great experience and it really helped my confidence with the downhills for the Syracuse 70.3 course. But the best part was being with my buddies. Even if they were trying to kill me.
The following weekend after Placid I decided to tackle the Syracuse bike course on my own. Had to prove to myself that I could do it without the support of my coach and teammates. The day I decided to do this was on a day that had 25-30 mph wind gusts. Mother Nature has it out for me. I was waiting for the flying monkey's to carry me off. It was brutal, but I did it. All of it. On my own. I am pretty damn proud of myself.
After tackling the course on my own, I was feeling pretty confident. Then it happened. A supershittykillmenowIhatetheuniverseandeveryoneinit ride. Death march on wheels. You want to know the best part? The flat I got on the back tire less than TWO MOTHERFUCKING MILES FROM THE END. This is the first flat tire I have EVER had. My streak has been broken. Here I am sweating like a whore on dollar day trying to change this fucking back tire (coach is guiding me through it) and we both are about to throw ourselves out into traffic because it isn't working!!! The goddamn tube has a bad valve. BRAND new tube and bad valve. So. Off she goes to get the car and I continue the death march back to the park. This had to happen two weeks before the race. Talk about a buzz kill.
Right now I am not even thinking of time. I am focused on getting each section done regardless of how long it will take me. My main focus is to get through the pain, discomfort, the mental numbness that comes with just wanting to stop. I will fight. I won't quit.
What worries me the most is the weather. It has been nothing but rain and storms here in Central New York and very cool. We haven't had any heat to get our bodies acclimated. What will really destroy me is if the race is called due to storms. My worst nightmare. But I can't think about that right now. Got to focus and prepare to get through whatever the day brings.
Wish me luck.