I decided that the Wombat 50km was going to be my first race where I would actually race - race in the sense that I would give everything I had on the day. Life now is so unpredictable that it is difficult to have those days of planned training that you stick to, good preparation the week before, and the only thing you have to think about the day before is your race. I have accepted that this is no longer the way of my life and, at times, simply making the most of being at a race is the best I can do. The Wombat 50 was one of these times.
The day before the race I was exhausted. By 6pm my legs were aching and I wanted to go to sleep. By 8pm I was driving Gav to the race and going to sleep in the car and not race.
Driving to the event at 5am meant dodging a lot of kangaroos along Sedgwick Rd. I don't think Gav had a complete grasp on what I meant when I said 'You're on kangaroo watch' until 5 minutes from home I nearly sent Gav through the windscreen to miss a 'roo jumping across the road in front of me. From then on he was a great co-pilot.
Somehow I managed to wake up once the sun rose as Gav was waiting for his race start. By my start time I was in my kit and at the start. First goal ticked off - getting to the start line. At the start line I met my regular fellow-casual-approach-starter, Bevo. Bevo is just awesome, and she made me feel good about getting to the start line without even knowing what she'd done.
The first 20km was awesome. I was flowing beautifully through the singletrack with Tegan and chatting away - I was able to keep the bike moving smoothly through the slippery track while floating over tree roots nicely. I felt good on the bike, although my legs were expectedly tired even during the warm-up.
The next 10 - 15km was horrible. I went into a slippery bit of singletrack without thinking about what I was doing, with a 'gu' in my mouth, and I 'd lost my flow. I was stuffing up stuff that I had previously been nailing, I was getting angry with myself, and I was tired. Lost my head for a while, but when I realised this I consciously tried to put it back on and not let it take hold any longer. At this point there were huge fire trail rutted mud puddles 20cm deep in water and mud, and my call was to walk around these if they couldn't be ridden around. Some of the guys riding past commented that I was riding 'girly' but my comment back was 'I don't want a $300 bill out the other side of this race'. I love my bike too much to put it through that when the stakes are low. It was also at this point that I wondered of myself, 'How did I used to race 24 hour solo races competitively?'
By the 35km mark I knew I only had 10km to go, so I stuck to my plan and pushed harder on the climbs. My descending flow came back a bit which egged my on. I past a female rider fixing a flat, and though I had no idea if she was in the same category, I used this as a motivator to not let her catch me.
With 5km to go I gave it everything. I was making loud noises of pain on the climbs and talking myself through the descents. I finished with a look of pain on my face, and an emotional feeling that I had fulfilled my goal. I had nothing left in my legs and I had completed my first comeback race. I finished, cooled down, made my way to some grass in the sun, and lay there for 15 minutes before I could move.
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