I am sitting here wondering where to start with my return to blog-land and figure that a belated race report is a good place. This past February, E and I headed down to Grants, NM, for the 26th annual Mt. Taylor Winter Quadrathlon. As usual, we had a car loaded with bikes, run shoes (with screws for the snow and ice), skis, skins, poles, and snowshoes. New this year, we brought with some other Boulder athletes and shared our hotel room. It was good to share the race experience with new companions, but it was a break from the tradition we had kept for the last 5 times we have done the race.
Friday we left Boulder early, drove to Grants without issue, picked up our materials at registration, and dropped off all of our gear for legs 2-4 at the fire house before settling into the hotel (away from the 24-7 rail road tracks) and then heading back to town for the complimentary pasta feed. A few last minute bike prep steps back at the hotel, and we headed to bed.
The race started Saturday at 9 am and we made it there in a single trip (years past have seen us rushing back to the hotel for timing chips, forgotten medication, etc. I do not know why, but this seems to be the one race where I can forget something vital and cause a ruckus race morning). We arrived at the start early enough to get great parking spots and with plenty of time for a good bike and run warm up. Unfortunately, as E already mentioned in his post, we had enough time to find some glass on the road's shoulder during our warm-up that led to some drama pre-start.
I didn't know it until I was trying to drop off a few last minute things at the car and ride to the line, but I was getting a flat front tire. I sprinted to the start, found E quickly, told him what was going on, and swapped wheels with him while he made a bee-line to the race mechanic's tent. I was able to stall the starter long enough for E to get the tire changed and head back over to the start. Unfortunately, E now had no spare tire, which cost him later as he had a slow leak in the rear due to more glass.
And with that, the gun was fired and the field was off. We all rode in a pack through town and out towards the county corrections facility. I was with two of the top women, but soon saw a pack breaking off the front and worked to bridge up to them, leaving Lisa and Keri close behind me, but out of site. At ~ 9 miles they reappeared and passed me as we flew down the only down-hill in the first leg and then started the steepest portion of the climb. Lisa was gone in a flash. Keri lingered a little longer due to shifting issues, but was out of sight by the time I moved into the first transition (T1). A few other strong riders (women) where there this year, and I entered T1 in 5th place for the female soloists. Just in time to miss the dirt and debris getting kicked up by the helicopter trying to land next to T1!
I was in and out of T1 quickly, and soon passed my nearest rivals. This year I made some strategic shoe choices for the run that had a positive impact on my race, and I was zipping along nicely through the early rollers and up the steeps. It was a beautiful day for a race. My nutrition was going well, and the legs and lungs were feeling OK, considering we were climbing ~1200 feet over the 5 mile run.
I entered T2 in 3rd, but knew I had a few women close on my heels. I took a final swig from my hand-held water bottle that I carried for the run, threw on my skate boots, clipped into my skis, swung my bag with snowshoes onto my back, and started to quickly walk out towards the timing mat at the end of T2 while strapping my poles on. The amazing volunteers were still loading my rejected run equipment into my bag as I transitioned from trudge to shuffle and skied out of sight.
The ski is always steep and painful at the Quad. 2009 was no exception. By now my muscles are screaming for oxygen and any motion feels like you are engulfed in lactic-acid derived quick sand. I fought on, driven by the thought that the race leaders, the women I emulated, and my own time goals, were within reach if I could stay focused and drive steadily onward.
At T3 I saw the men's race leader leaving to start the ski down as I was ripping my skins off the skis and shoving my feet into my bolted-on run shoes on the snowshoes. As I ran along the flat portion, I saw Brian Hunter ahead. He had passed me on the ski up and we would continue to jockey back and forth for the next 40 min or so, spurring each other on. I had a gel. Declined the whiskey but took water at the edge-of-the-world, and somewhere in there put on the light weight windbreaker that I had been carrying in my jersey pocket since the start. This jacket was a life saver, and the decisions to wear it was one that eventually propelled me to a great total race and 15 min PR (after having 4 of the previous 5 years all be within ~5 min of each other). Keri and Erin were not as fortunate. Both eventually were pulled off course by medical due to potential hypothermia. The winds were brutal at the top of the mountian and we were all very wet due to the efforts we exerted to haul ourselves up the mountain. My jacket (an awesome find at Golite) packs down to a lump smaller than most supermarket apples and weighing less than its volume in marshmellows (its small and light) and had been out of sight and mind until I needed it and quickly remembered having it and threw it on mid stride. Then I passed the Edge of the World and started to assend the steep section that would send me to the half way point distance wise, also known as the top of Mt. Taylor.
At the top I paused briefly for a 2 second look at the view, then followed directions and started down. This year they sent us down a different way than we went up. It was a very fun section to descend, but I missed seeing where everyone in front of me was like I could when the top used to be an out and back.
Before I knew it, I was back in transition trying to stuff my feet into my wet ski boots, attach my boots to my bindings, and plop my snowshoes into my backpack for the ski descent. As I started to shuffle off I was still trying to jam my hands into my poles. I had a few close calls this year when my skis got caught in a rut or when I was maneuvering around other racers on some of the tight hairpin turns, but I made it down in decent time with no falls. Near the bottom, in the middle of the whoop-do-woos, I shot past Keri, much to my surprise. After that section there is a short up and then flat-ish section where I always skate. I pushed on, worried that Keri was just behind me. She is strong and has multiple wins here, and she can run!
By the time I made it over the timing mat and into transition, the volunteers had grabbed my gear bag, removed my skis from my feet, and were directing towards a bench where I could sit briefly and prep for the downhill run. On with my shoes, run hat, and handful of gels, and I was off. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to grab my water bottle in the rush. That ended up not being too much of a problem, but having it with me would have been better. Part way down, after turning off the steep road onto the flatter road and getting ready to cross the second cattle guard, a headwind picked up and nearly blew my hat off. I pulled it loose from my ponytail and stuck it in my race belt. The last bit of the run is rolling and gets ugly. I always think this is the hardest leg of the race because I'm starting to tire, ready to be done, and assuming all is downhill, but it's not. The last mile has noticeable uphill sections and lots of flat that seems to go nowhere. Regardless, keeping one foot in front of the other seems to get one through this part and on to the bike.
The bike down this year was uneventful. The headwinds picked up throughout the bike, but by now I almost expect that (unlike 2005 when I was on par for a significant PR and expecting a 30-35 min decent, only to go 50 min and nearly bonk since I had not grabbed food and expected to be done much sooner). I crossed the line in second place, a major accomplishment! I chatted briefly with the radio station announcers, tuned in my chip, drank copious amounts of gatorade, then turned back to find E. He wasn't too far behind, but was further back than I expected. I soon learned that he had also found glass during our bike warm-up that left him with a slow rear leak. A number of stops to top off the tire with CO2 got him to the finish, but he had ridden the last bit up at the beginning while standing, cautiously descended the steep parts at the top on the way down, and had to stop at the top of the little climb during the end bike to refill.
The rest of our acquaintances drifted in and we learned that Lisa had won, Tom was done in excellent time, better than expected, and both Eric and Keri got to ride down together in a cop car after the medics pulled them off course for hypothermia. We used our meal ticket to have lunch with Keri and catch up on her latest adventures. I think this lunch at El Cafecito was my favorite part of the trip. Keri is a neat person, and we really only see her at races, often only at Mt. Taylor. And the food at El Cafecito is AWESOME, true NM cuisine.
Then it was back to the hotel to start cleaning up, packing gear, packing the car some, vegging out, etc. We headed back in to town for awards that night, then hit the hay. The next morning we ate breakfast at the hotel, then said goodbye to Eric, loaded Tom and the last things into the car, and turned towards Boulder. The 2009 Mt. Taylor Quad trip was done, but we'll be back next year. You should join us in Grants, NM for the race, it is one of a kind and a true gem.