IM Los Cabos: The Bike

If you missed IM Los Cabos: Pre Race/H2O click here.

As I left transition, I kept thinking, what happened? Did I have a really good swim? Is his transition bag gone? Where is he? With the lead in my hand, I clipped my new shoe plates into my pedals and I rode.  We trained the bike Friday and Saturday and I was feeling pretty good about a sub-six hour ride despite the hills.  I am a hill-lover.  I love the climb.  I love the burn in my quads; the sound of a powerful exhale.  The thumping in my chest.  I love cresting a hill and dropping back into my seat.  I climb on my feet.

Practice Ride Friday.

 I love hills. Did I mention that already?

This picture is fully and completely stolen from finisherpix.com. The best pictures on the circuit.

As I set out, I found myself riding the familiar road to Cabo San Lucas.  There were some bumpy patches, and some aluminium speed bumps, but I didn’t mind either.  At the first turn around, I started to count.  How many minutes will it be until I see Ricardo.  I figured that I would take that time and double it since we now would be riding in opposite directions of the turn around. 

Boom.

I had counted about 2 minutes, which meant that he was 4 minutes behind me.  On the flats, Ricardo has been consistently faster than me, but on the hills, I am generally stronger than him.  But he has MUCH improved. I didn’t know how this was going to pan out.  The next turn around would be about 45km away.  As my mind raced I was passed by a woman in a green bathing suit.  There was a “V” on her right leg, indicating she was in the 55-59 age group. WOW. Admiration. Wow.

I raced my plan, taking water and Gatorade at every hydration station.  The water, I used to dump over my hear and arms, the Gatorade I drank.  I kept a steady flow of gel going as well.  One gel every 45 minutes to an hour.  We decided against Powerbars this time as we though our regular PB and jelly would do.  When I reached into my bento box for my sandwich bag, out popped my salt pills.  Hasta Luego sodium! I hope I didn’t really need those. And I bit the bag holding my sandwich open.   

I love peanut butter almost as much as I love hills.  The ¼ sandwich was goooooood.  And I put the bag back.  When I arrived at the hill, (see below marked “Big Ass Hill”) I grinned as I started taking hill points.  “Hill points” are the amount of people I pass on hills.  I don’t know how many I took until I saw a familiar green bathing suit standing on the side of the road. “Do you have what you need?” I yelled. 

“You haven’t got an extra CO2 cartridge do you?” She asked.

“In fact, I do.” 

This has been the first time in an Ironman I have been able to help a fellow athlete.  I stopped my bike and fished out my extra cartridge.  “Now, do you know how to change a tire?” She asked.

“That, I can’t help you with.” I responded.  I have changed one road tire in my life and it was not really me who changed it.  Knowing that this would be a time-consuming endeavor with no guarantee, I left her in the hands of the race-mechanics that ride the course on scooters trouble-shooting.  Ricardo would tell me later that she passed him.  

I got back on my bike and continued riding the 5.5km climb. 

Only one song came to mind. And only 5 words, repeated themselves over, and over, and over, and over, and over until I started singing it myself. 

The Long and Winding Road … da, da …. da, da …

 “Isn’t this fun.”  I yelled as I was taking another hill point. “We pay good money for this. Enjoy it.”  And I rode on.  When I got to the turn around, I started counting again.  If it’s more than 2 minutes, I have gained some time. 

4 minutes.  I was now 8 minutes ahead. If I could keep this pace, and Ricardo keep his, I might have a chance of “winning him” as my students would say.  And I rode back to start my second loop.

SMACK. POW. BOOM.  Like a Batman cartoon, the wind slapped me in the face.  The ride to Los Cabos would be just that.  An assault.  A wind assault.  A slap in the face, and a sound that hollers, “Ha ha ha ha haa, you are pedaling and not moving very fast …. Sucker!”

I would suffer until the turn around, scooping my peanut butter and jelly out with my fingers because the bread had been soaked with water as I doused myself.  I would wear a grimace instead of a grin, and remember, This is temporary.

But it wasn’t.

They were cross winds and when I turned around, it felt just the same.  Smack.  Time. Count.

6 minutes.  6 minutes = 12 minutes.  Indeed I was increasing my lead.

Now.  This is an important detail.  Ricardo and I went to a wedding on February 23.  This was supposed to have been a big training weekend, but, well, it was a wedding.  The only training we did was wine and dancing.  The night before the wedding, two friends of Ricardo’s made a bet on who would win between the two of us. 

Sidenote: Ricardo and I met at the finish line of Ironman Cozumel in 2011.  We have a similar pace.

So Jeroen bet on Ricardo, and Reuben bet on me.  We took a picture just in case there was ever a reason to not remember having made the bet. 

Yep.  That's a $1000 bet alright.

When I made my way back to the “Big Ass Hill” I was feeling spent.  My sub-6 hour dream was over and I was once again singing,

The LONG and WINDING road. 

And again, I began to giggle.That's when I turned to poetry.  Inspired by the butterflies and bees along the way, I began.

Bees and Butterflies,

Are two different things,

One flutters it's wings,

And one really stings.

That's as far as I got, but like The Long and Winding Road, I repeated it over, and over, and over, unable to come up with a second verse without fear that I might forget the first.  This is called Ironbrain.

Out and back and that was that – done deal. I had opened up the lead to about 15 minutes.  

Ricardo is a much better runner than I, but is he that much better?  His marathon was 10 minutes faster than mine back in May, but now … his run had improved, as mine seemed to have worsened.

IM Los Cabos: The Run: Coming as soon as my big ass pile of grading and report cards are done. 

If you'd like something to tie you over, do visit IM Brasil: The run. 

Fun fact:  The IM Los Cabos swim was actually 4.1km rather than 3.8km.  For real. 

Bike time: 6:31:33

T2:  2:05

I left the tent screaming, "I feel like a million bucks."