It's not all about me all the time (just some of the time).

This weekend was not all about me. I got to wear the spectator shoes as I switched gears to become the supporter. Along with this role, you get sore feet, sunburnt, and the privilege bearing the burden of worry. I had double worry this weekend because my 12 year old son was on his first trip out of state without us and was spending the day in Disneyland and my husband was doing his first 50 mile off road bike race. When I signed up for Ironman it lit a fire under my husband to get a piece of the action. He is already a natural cyclist, but is no longer running due to a patellar tendon tear and is not a swimmer, nor does he have the desire to find a way to paddle through the water as many triathletes do in order to gain the title of Ironman. So he chose a 50 mile off road mountain bike race called the Whiskey Off Road Race in Prescott, AZ. He had done a 20 mile race earlier in the year where he learned that mountain biking is not as easy as it looks. Then he found a race put on by Epic Rides and he sent a link to me. I thought great, a 25 mile ride through the pines, but he was not going to settle for 25, he insisted that he was going to do the 50 miler. We had watched a few videos like the Leadville 100 and Ride the Divide. I thought we agreed that you had to be certified INSANE to ride in these events. I guess he felt that he had a piece of that inside of him. So he got in rides on the road and trail whenever he could. His job is demanding and he would fit his training in early in the morning before conference calls, at lunch, in the evening and mostly after I got my training in. Chivalry is not dead ladies.....a husband that is willing to ride first when it is too cold or last when it is too hot is way better than having the door held open for you or your groceries carried in. The big weekend finally arrived and we went to the Expo at Whiskey Row in downtown Prescott to pick up his packet, watch the PRO criterion races, and go to the pre-race meeting. Prescott, AZ is a historical town in Arizona famous for its Whiskey Row which back in the days of the wild wild west and still today is lined with taverns. The town has a big courthouse in the center with a beautiful lawn and is surrounded by cute little shops and pubs. They really know how to host an event and the whole town gets involved. This was the 9th year for the Whiskey Off Road and they were able to grow the event and attract a big pro playing field by offering 30K in prize money! The criterion race was something else watching pro men and women loop around a track placed on a steep hill in downtown Prescott for 20 minutes. They would blow a whistle and the winner of that lap would win an extra 100 dollars and at 20 minutes they got to ride 3 more laps and the first place rider won 1000 dollars. We found some dinner and hurried back to the big stage for the pre-race meeting. The event director gave a detailed description of the course. I mostly hear him say, you are going to go UP, UP, UP and then UP, UP, UP, and then UP, UP, UP with a few curves, drops, water crossings and even waterfalls. I heard stay on your bike and I heard get off and walk. My husband kept his fears inside, but I was wondering frankly how he was going to survive this type of terrain. So with a picture of the course in our heads we headed back to my parents house where we were camping out and got a good nights sleep. Then we were back downtown and got a parking spot close to the start line and watch everyone slowly show up with their bikes. The seriously mountain bikes were wearing their fancy team jerseys or sponsored shirts and bike pants and bikes of all caliber and color. The races were categorized by proof in lieu of miles. The 50 proof ride started at 7:30 and the riders filled an entire block and the race organizers kept having to ask the riders to move back as they were allowing the single speed bikes to line up in the front (which I wondered how a single speed would even keep up with the others, but in the end you'll see why). They had funny signs with speed related themes on them for you to pick a start spot. 3 guns and the riders were off. In the meantime, I am training for an Ironman you know, so I got a nice 90 minute run in on part of the Whiskey Row Marathon course and by the time I returned, the 25 proofers were lining up. They probably took up 2 blocks but I decided to watch them start up on top of the first hill at the start. Just as I started to relax and found a cute little bakery for a morning snack, I hear the announcers saying to expect the first finisher of the 50 proof ride in about 40 minutes....so I headed back to the finish area and there I stood for over 3 hours watching both races finish and wondering how my brave husband was faring. I was hanging out with my favorite bike shop High Gear in Prescott and planning for a ride with a few of them when I return at the end of May. The first finisher of the 50 proof came in on a single speed in 3 hours and 19 minutes. INSANE. A single speed. HOW? Many riders were coming in on flat tires, broken chains, cramping muscles, and maybe a few broken hearts....but each crossed with a lot of soul, gusto, and fortitude. I was able to see one of my coaches finish and one of my teammates. I started to listen for sirens and accident reports, but I knew Dennis was a good cyclist, so part of me had faith that he was going to surprise me and the other part of me was waiting for a phone call. Sure enough right around 6 hours, Dennis raced in to the finish line in his plain red jersey and his big bulky Camelback. I ran to him and he had tears in his eyes. I looked at him and I knew he had faced something big and that he got it. He now knew what it was like to set your sights so far, so high that he had to dig very very very deep into his soul to muster up the human strength to complete such a grueling task. I felt like he now had an idea about what child birth was like and what Ironman would be like for me, though I really don't think Ironman will be as grueling because I will only need to move forward and he had to move UP, UP, UP! Congratulations to Dennis for being made of Iron. He finished with relief, pride, a Whiskey Off Road 50 proof PINT glass, and probably a new addiction for the adrenaline rush that you get when you push far past your limits. May I have a little bit of that for Ironman and be that tough! Once again, I found myself very sore and tired from spectating and wishing that I were the one moving instead of standing still. I do think spectating is a hard job, grueling in fact....so I think I have earned my 17 hours that my husband will be standing, pacing, and worrying for me in November.