Wildman

Friday night the Bride and I headed up to Gorham, NH as we have on this weekend for the past 5 years. But this time we weren't headed up for the 24 Hours of Great Glen, but rather the Wildman Biathlon. I was looking for something "easier" to than the two-man team Todd and I have fielded these past 5 years as well as a race that would better leverage the mountain running I've been doing regularly the past two years. I also wanted to spend less time training, and I figured something that lasted about as long as a marathon had to require less time training than the 24HoGG. That only proved partially true...

Coming into the finish of the first leg in Shelburne, NH
Looking Good & Going Slow :-P

In its 21st year, the Wildman is a 10k road run, 22.3 mile road ride with a stiff uphill finish up the "easy" side of Pinkham Notch, and finally a 3 mile uphill-only mountain run to the summit of Wildcat Mountain. A few competitors run the race as a relay, but the bulk, like myself, were doing it solo.

The weather was close to perfect when we arrived for the 8:00 race start; the humidity was low and it was about as cool as it could be without needing to wear warmup jersey.

I didn't want to cook myself on the first leg, a fairly flat out and back with a couple short hills. I figure I'm good right now for 6:30 pace in a standalone race, so my goal was a sedate 7:30 pace. Things didn't go quite to plan as my first mile was way too quick, but I calmed down and finished in 45:20 at 7:18 pace. If felt odd to be leaving so much in reserve, but I still managed to be in 36th place, out of the 96 solo entrants.

Leaving T1 for a quick "lap" before heading to Wildcat.

Having dogged it a bit on the first leg I had a lot left in the tank for the bike. I got through the first transition quickly enough, at least by my own very low standards. Before heading to Wildcat we were required to make one 7 mile lap around some local Shelburne roads and return to the first transition area before heading out to Gorham. The lap was typical rolling New England hills, no big climbs. For those first seven miles I just tried to get into a consistent rhythm, knowing there was plenty of climbing at the end. I passed a fair number of people and was passed in turn by the better cyclists.

Here's how you know you are dealing with a mountain biker out of his element:

1) Full fingered gloves*

2) Earth tone socks

3) MTB shoes

4) Giro Xen helmet

5) Cheap no-name road bike
6) Crazy Mountain Man Beard
7) Loose and flappy shirt

* Probably the only person who bothered with gloves of any kind! I am Safety Paul after all.

After the local lap we headed for Gorham and then turned onto Rt 16. The course stayed the same with no climbs of note until the 12.5 mile mark. At that point the course climbs from approximately 800' to 2000' feet in less than 10 miles, with the last two miles climbing 500'. Hardly Tour de France numbers, but enough that you're going to feel it.

With the start of the real climbing at 12.5 I my legs felt good, surprising since I'd only ridden about 200 miles in preparation for this race, so I started to reel people in. My slack pace thus far paid off I was able to pass several riders before I reached Wildcat in 1:19:29, the 28th best bike time of the day.

Coming into T2 is a quick turn onto loose dirt with jelly legs. Fun.

T2 was a bit pokey as my legs were quite wobbly when I got off the bike and I grabbed some Sport Legs pills from the Bride. When I started the 3 mile 2000' trail run to the summit of Wildcat, my legs felt awful, forcing me into a painfully slow trot, but they would soon feel worse.

The Final Insult

After about a quarter of a mile my legs detonated and started cramping uncontrollably. If I straightened my leg my quad would seize, if I bent it too much my hamstrings locked up.

Master of the "Power Limp" (tm).

I gave serious consideration to quitting the race since I had barely started the last leg and could barely walk. Clearly I'd overdone the bike leg. But then I came around a corner and glanced at the other "runners" strung out up the trail. Almost all of them was doing some variant of the limp I was doing. Then I realized, "Ah ha! This is how it is supposed to be!", and I plodded on.

The merciful end!

Occasionally I was able to start trotting again (I hesitate to call anything I did on that last leg "running"). The one mile mark passed and I didn't feel any worse. I kept waiting for the 2 mile mark, thinking I'd try to run the last mile.

The finish area.

My thinking wasn't very clear and even as I approached the summit and saw the Bride snapping my picture I thought, "Gee, she (having taken the gondola to the summit) hiked down an awfully long way".

The course elevation profile...you get the idea.

"How much further?", I asked her dejectedly, that stupid 2 mile mark couldn't arrive soon enough. She looked at me with a puzzled look, and said "Only a hundred yards or so." I wasn't sure if I should believe her, since her distance estimation abilities are quite dubious, it might be 1600 yards. But I started running as best I could and sure enough, around the next bend was the merciful end.

Added another 4000-footer to my list today...the hard way.

I finished the last leg in 51:05**, the 37th best ascent of the day. Overall I finished in 32nd place and even beat 11 of the relay teams.

** For some reason my splits for the first two legs were missing in the race results. The splits listed above for the first two legs are from my Garmin 405 so the totals don't foot exactly. The total time per the 405 was 2:55:48, per the race results 2:55:49.

The Bride likes working support for races that last only a few hours and take place while the sun is shining.

If I was to do this race again, beyond the obvious of more miles training on the bike, I would definitely go harder on the 10k, something under 7:00 pace. I don't think it would effect my cycling too much and I don't think I could do the last leg any slower without going backwards. The main thing I'd do though is to train more for the second transition. My body was simply not prepared for getting off the bike and running. I'd done two shortened dry runs of the race in the past month but clearly this was not remotely enough. After every other bike ride I think a run, no matter how short, would be what is needed to prepare for this race.

I've only taken in this view previously with skis on.

And as to this race being easier than Great Glen, I'd tend to say it is, since it's certainly shorter, and mountain bike racing at night when you are exhausted is unrelentingly trying. But I've never done any race where my legs felt as awful as they did on the last climb; mentally I came pretty close to folding then. I suppose the real lesson is that while the race is shorter, you till have to train just as much!