The Tatanka Epic has a special spot in my life. When I first raced, in 2014, it became a seminal race for me. I came in more fit and more prepared than ever. Then, I got really sick, and then, weeks of rain. Buckets of rain. Biblical rain. That was an epic Tatanka year. It was the last year at the old course, and more than 50% of entrants DNS'd. I beat Tinker Juarez and most other riders before my sidewall was absolutely shredded outside of Nemo. I DNF'd after 47 miles.
It left me more pissed off and pumped up than ever before. Pumped up because I felt great during a hellish race, and could feel the hard work paying off. Pissed off because I DNF'd.
That race really ignited my racing passion, and I was determined to take a streak of 8 podium finishes into Tatanka and continue it, full circle style.
I worked hard on that goal. In December 2015, I started slogging out frigid, wind-scowled Stillwater County miles. My miles were more thoughtful and purposeful than before, focusing on long, slow rides in the winter and spring, and then adding in the hills and intervals as the summer approached. My long term planning for 2016 was unparalleled.
Short term: problems.
My new job took over. Super busy two week run-in. Also, in Malaysia I got hooked on 100+ for my biking hydration. When Tatanka started approaching, I needed to get a replacement drink lined up, since. I used to drink Tailwind, but lately I have a hard time stomaching it. I drink Skratch sometimes, but it's hard to get here and expensive, and I was running low. Never did dial in a replacement.
Then I took a really hard fall on my road bike on Wednesday before the race. That injury, plus weeks of searing daytime temps & gusty, noisy nights made my sleep schedule all messed up.
Day before the race, I had fried cajun food for lunch, and mexican food for dinner. Shitty mexican food. If you're thinking of that big fancy Mexi joint in downtown Rapid City, don't. It's terrible. Pretty sure it gave me food poisoning that would kick in at a perfect time: about 2pm on race day.
Long story short, my 6 month training plan was A+. My two week run-in was F-.
Result: trouble. About an hour into the race, I didn't feel good. I couldn't think of anything to eat. None of my usual treats looked palatable. It was so hot, my food was so dry.
My Tailwind tasted like tears. The Skratch was hot, and undrinkable. I kept pounding 7up. Good for water and sugar, terrible for sodium, potassium, hydrating. I started to cramp.
This was my intro to cramps. I never understood cramps. Never had them before. I though it was like a sideache in your muscle. Fuck. No. That's not what it is.
My cramps: throbbing muscle pain, then complete contractions to the point I had full lockjaw of the legs.
The worst came around the top of the hills between Aid stations 2 and 3, where both of my legs locked up completely. I tipped over, off the bike. My upper body was fine, but both of my legs were locked, fully extended, down to ballerina toes. I had to roll on my stomach and jab my ass up in the air, forcing my knees to bend. One of the worst moments of my life.
The remaining seven miles or so were probably my worst ever. My whole body was in pain. My muscles were still cramping on and off. I was sick. Hot.
When I got to the aid station, I broke down. DNF.
So, what have I done with these lessons? Cancelled my racing career.
Seriously.
Tough lessons: it's not even about the bike. Everything else has to line up just right, and with some debt, and a young girl we have to raise, it's just not in the cards anymore.
Sucks.