So I don't know why the blog thing wouldn't include separate paragraphs in the last post, I tried to fix it but oh well. Back to
Ouachita: I went through the first checkpoint, ~ 16 miles in (on an extremely random side note: if your right hand is shifted one key to the left on the keyboard when you type miles you really get the word nukes, odd...), I was pacing with an older guy who had done the race before so I thought it couldn't hurt to pace with him through the hard hills. The first of the hills wasn't too bad, long and grinding but nothing too technical. The second hill was tough and super technical. Previously described to me as, "someone pulled up, dumped a load of baby-head sized angular rocks and then labelled it trail," I found this description to be pretty good. There were several sections deemed
unrideable and there was a good chain of people pushing through the sections. Then the descent off the technical part was super-fun! Fast,
flowy, borderline crazy. After the technical climb and the sweet downhill I had forgotten the third hill and once I got out on the road I thought I was headed to a checkpoint so I put the hammer down. After about a mile I rounded a corner and saw the sign pointing back into
singletrack and I knew the third hill was coming. At least there wasn't much
technical stuff but it was a
looooonnnng, very
grindy hill. One of those hills where you're already pedalling slow and you look up and only see hill continuing into the clouds. Maybe not quite into the clouds but I feel like there were clouds up there. Once I got up to the top there was one more technical section. I pulled up tried to
unclip, no luck, tipped right over. My right leg, the one I could get out was under the bike and my head was downhill. Not a good situation, I definitely felt like a turtle struggling to get off it's back as the other turtles in the race all rode on past... Disappointing. Once I regained some composure, picked up dignity that I had dropped, I flew into another sweet downhill. I
repassed some of those other turtles on the descent so I was feeling pretty decent. At the bottom of the descent the course jumps out onto the road that goes into the feed station. Thinking smart, I joined forces with a couple other racers and we pace lined into town. It was a great idea until the idiot roadie in front of me decided he would start slowing down forcing me to lock up the brakes, skid sideways to the right, skid sideways to the left, throw out my foot (Thank God the foot came out!!) and stomp it down to save the crash. Whew... A couple more road miles then it was in to the feed zone, two fresh bottles and a Payday and I was good to go. At this point the twinge of cramps were coming on pretty good. Took it easy for a bit, downed a lot of fluids and ate something hoping this would help. Pulled back through the feed zone, got some salt tablets and more water then continued on for the last 20 or so miles. "It's only 20 miles," I was thinking. Not long into the
singletrack the cramps were starting to come on pretty good, "Uh oh," is what I was thinking. Drank a bunch, pedalled easy and prayed the cramps would go away.
Luckily they did, for a little while anyway. Further into the
singletrack I realized my food was not going to be coming out anytime soon, "Awesome," I thought. Having the foot not come out was good on the climbs but on the bench cut descents I was a little worried that I was going to crash downhill and just keep going crashing with the
inseparable foot on the bike. "Oh well, don't ride like a sissy," kept running through my mind. On one of the long climbs I passed Keith, the only guy in our group that was in front of me, he wasn't having the best day on the side of the trail but I wasn't gonna stop half way up a long climb to see if he needed anything. This gave me a bit of motivation to keep going. I began to get quite frustrated on this section of trail because the foot thing was really starting to become an issue. There were loads of switchbacks in this section and since I was so tired I was struggling with them, not being able to put a foot down meant I just fell over every time this happened. I wouldn't normally have minded too much but this meant I had to get myself up and back going while fighting cramps from setting in. Definitely thinking, "Ugh, this isn't cool anymore!" Some distance of kick-ass
singletrack later I pulled in to a feed station, filled up a bottle and kept
truckin. I didn't want to stop long thinking the cramps might move in and my foot was still stuck in my pedal, no
bueno... I pulled back out and quickly realized it was back into slow-grinding uphills. I got very comfortable riding in the granny gear fearing I was going to stall or cramp badly if I pushed too hard. Then there was some more sweet descents after I made it through the climbing but my thoughts were more along the lines of, "Where the hell is the road? This
singletrack is brutal." Definitely something I never thought I'd say to myself. Finally, I got back out to the road, I was NOT done though. After several rolling hills I came down to the last checkpoint with a guy who was less-than-spectacular at being a corner
marshall/checkpoint guy, I understand though, he could only see us coming from a half mile away... Then it was back into a short section of
singletrack, OUCH. Figured out that my shoe was not going to clip in to my shoe anymore at this point, I'm not totally sure when it came out. Then back onto the road. Once I was back on the road I was thinking to myself, I could really use some plain water right now. I approached two guys (corner
marshalls) and asked if they had any water to which they responded, "At the top of the hill." If only I had known what they meant I would have stopped and gotten some from them anyway. A mountain-style switchback climb up a marginally loose gravel road was all that stood between me an fresh water... That climb sucked, no prettying that up. Got to the top, got some water and I knew it was sorta the home stretch to get in. I have never really seriously thought, "I really don't want to be on the bike anymore, I don't know if I even care anymore..." This is not a good attitude to have, ever. At this point I thought back to all the riders who had done this route yesterday and how hard some of them pushed and this gave me a bit of inspiration to push myself those last several miles. I was rolling down and saw the steeple on the church
which was right by the finish line. This also gave me a bit of inspiration, I didn't speed up but I
moreso felt, "I'm gonna finish!" I rolled up, saw the finish line and pushed as hard as I could up the last hill to the finish line hoping my legs wouldn't cramp mid way. As soon as I finished the legs started cramping, not horribly but cramping is cramping. Then I changed clothes, ate some pizza and and orange and sat around waiting for the others to come in to cheer them on. Throw in an amazing nap and the day was great! I finished in 6:04:04, my goal was sub 6 which I think I
could've done without the damn pedal issues. I also wanted top 50 but I ended up 55
th, not too bad for the first time ever riding there. Dinner that night was amazing and the sleep, great! Monday morning came pretty early, a quick breakfast and then it was on the road back to Dallas and then back to Houston. We stopped in Dallas and I picked up some new mountain bike shoes and a
tri suit for the upcoming
XTerra and then home to Houston. Great weekend!!
I hadn’t ridded a bunch of the singletrack at Levis but the stuff I hadn’t ridden was just as amazing as the trails I had ridden. What a great day of riding!
I packaged up a bunch of cake and headed to the airport, I got in pretty dang late and was very thankful that my good friend Sonia was there to pick me up!!
Then the cow attacked me:
I had the goals for the race, finish Part 1, then finish Part 2, and then finish Part 3. The race: Part 1: Swim 750 meters is a long swim, at least for me it is. Two weekends ago I struggled my way through 1300 meters but in the race we were swimming in the river and there were other people there. I remember the first time I got kicked, not too bad, doesn't seem to bother me. Then, I remember sort of swimming over someone, also didn't seem to bother me. About three quarters the way through the swim I was getting pretty dang tired, the last 200 meters seem to creep by. Finally I got to the bank and got pulled out of the water and up the slippery bank by some great volunteers: 
Part 2: The Bike I knew I was behind and I needed to do some work, a lot of work. I knew most of the people in the race were out and gone in front of me as there were very few bikes on the rack in the Transition Area (TA) when I went through. Good thing the course was technical and fun, I did some work and passed lots of people. I wasn't satisfied until I passed three guys in my class that were all pretty close together. Then I passed some more people and then a couple more. I crushed it on the way back into the TA, had a good transition and it was time to do business again. 
