|Big Bear Lake. Pretty appealing after 8,500 ft of climbing.|
At mile 35, when I took a gel, my throat closed up. I couldn't get in a breath; I was running low on water. Come on Bishop, you can do this. I made some audible grunting sounds and kept on going. I kept on pushing forward, but it was about survival, not racing.
|Big Bear Two-Wheeled Adventuring|
I had prepared for this race, the 50-mile distance being my focus this season. For some reason, my body didn't get the memo.
As the miles ticked by, I would get bouts of energy, charge forward, only to be reacquainted with the wall of pain in my back, and a little voice telling me to let up. More grunting, more forward motion.
I am not accustomed to this type of suffering. I am accustoming to racing. I prefer to race, to fight, to test myself and go to the well. At Big Bear, I went to the well, but in a totally different fashion, I went to the well, found it void of water and just starting drinking the mud. And let me tell you, it didn't taste good.
I can think of a whole handful of excuses to explain the way I felt on Sunday. I have been traveling a lot, I have been away more than I have been home over the last three weeks, work travel has taken its toll, my diet hasn’t been as balanced as I would like, my training has been upended and not as consistent as normal. Blah. Blah. Blah.
The truth of the matter is that I didn’t race like I wanted to race. I didn’t race like I am capable of racing.
So, what can I take away from this experience? What did I learn and how can I apply it? How can I take the lessons learned and use them to become a better racer and a strong competitor?
With four weeks until Marathon Nationals in Idaho, I am fired up and ready to get in some solid training in preparation to compete. I am ready for awesome.
|Playing with big cats at the Discovery Center|