Race report, Part IV - Trails, Bubbles, Scooters, and Accidental Gymnastics
Part I
Part II
Part III
Invigorated by the big wheel obstacle, we set off down 3rd St and picked up the Town Lake trail. After a few seconds debate about which way we needed to go on the trail, we headed left toward the S. 1st St bridge. Noah had regained his sense of adventure, and was fascinated when we passed what looked like a tour group of sightseers on Segways. At his request, we stopped to rest for a few minutes under a tree about halfway to the bridge. I wasn't really in any hurry anymore...now that we were having fun again, I was going to do everything within my power to keep it that way. And it seemed to be working...he barely even complained when we went up the ramp to the bridge path, just made a joke--"Man, I hated this the first time!"
We headed straight down Barton Springs to Jack & Adams, where we rocked the plunger relay and duck/frog/fish hunt (each team walked into a pen filled chest-high with soap bubble foam, and had to search the floor for a duck, a frog, and a fish to complete the obstacle. As it turns out, Noah and I are very talented toe-gropers--took about 30 seconds).
While de-sudsing ourselves and putting shoes back on, we assessed our situation. The checkpoints would start to shut down at 12:20 or so, and I had overheard another team at this checkpoint saying that they had to wait at "the duck pond" one for over an hour. Not being familiar with Austin or this race, I wasn't sure "duck pond" referred to the location or the obstacle, so couldn't tell if that was one of the two checkpoints we had left to go. It was 11:42, leaving us less than 40 minutes to complete the race. It was right around this time that Rob called...he had been waiting at the finish line for us, but was now going to go back and check us out of the hotel before noon. We were both hot and tired, and ready for the race to be over. With only a little regret, I decided that we wouldn't have time to try to get out to the rowing dock checkpoint and back. Leaving it out would shorten our course by over a mile and--more importantly for our morale--eliminate another short, steep uphill.
We headed left onto Barton Springs, away from the rowing dock and all hope of completing all 7 checkpoints. I got a little impatient again as we rode. Barton Springs had more traffic than our previous routes, both cars and bikes. A lot of the adult teams doing the full race (included 3 landmark checkpoints, not on the family race) were now starting to hit this cluster of checkpoints as well. Not only were the bike lanes starting to get crowded, but the crowds were faster. By this point, Noah only had one speed, which we'll call "pedal, pedal, coooooooast, pedal, coooooooooast". We were having hell making the lights, getting dusted by other racers, and I had to fight with myself not to start pushing him again. I settled for sing-songing "pedal-pedal-pedal!" each time we crossed a major intersection. We were nearly at the finish, and more than anything, I just wanted both of us to arrive safe and happy.
Checkpoint #6 was a bike board scooter course, which was another event at which Noah excelled and I pretty much sucked (oh, and if you look at that picture...see the brake? I am very certain mine didn't have one of those). Miraculously, I made it through without crashing into anyone, and collected our checkpoint bead. After a quick phone conversation with Robert, during which Noah rode around the parking lot impatiently (where was all this energy an hour ago??), we were back on the road. We had 6 of the 7 beads, and that was good enough for us. Off to the finish!
The closer we got to the finish line, the more impatient we became. I blessed the tolerance of Austin drivers while preparing for the turn onto 1st St, crossing 4 lanes of (very light) traffic at less than 10 mph in less than a block, trying to get to the left turn lane. I just about fainted when Noah cut off some dude in a pickup, but not a single person honked at us. Now less than 3 blocks from the finish, that last light took HOURS to change. Finally, we were able to make our turn. Thinking that Noah would take my lead, I picked up speed for a finish-line sprint. Apparently, I should have spelled this out, because I looked back to see him a full block behind me. Sigh.
I had half expected everyone to be gone by the time we got there, but I guess we weren't as far behind as I'd thought. People were standing around clapping as we came in, calling "Good job!" and "Just one more!"
Wait--"Just one more"?! I had somehow forgotten about the finish line obstacle--looked like some big inflatable climbing thing and waterslide. Oh LORD. Do you know how well I climb? Or how well I handle enclosed spaces? Not well, that's how.
We parked our bikes in the holding area, took off our helmets, and now that the inflatable monster was out of sight, it didn't seem so bad. Anyway, I'd have to go through it regardless, if I wanted to finish. I tried once again to entice Noah into running around the underpass to RunTex. Once again, he would have none of it. We walked. Slowly.
Of course, looking back on it, maybe "Dude, c'mon! If we run, we can finish this stupid race, have a burrito, and go home" isn't the best motivational speech in the world. :)
After taking off our shoes as the volunteer directed, we climbed into the big rubber deathtrap inflatable obstacle course. Noah, of course, did fine...he has been raised on all kinds of moonwalk-y inflatable things, and these things are designed with his age group in mind. You know, that age where you can still bend over and touch your toes, and your back doesn't go off like firecrackers when you have a good stretch? Trying to run an adult through this thing is a little scary, particularly when said adult is the most uncoordinated being in the known universe, and dislikes small cramped spaces enough to get panicky when elevator doors don't open fast enough.
Put simply, this thing kicked my ass. Noah was all the way through and on to the water slide before I was over the first hump. Literally. I went through the (much too small for my liking) entry, and was immediately faced with a 2-ft-tall rubber hill. I launched myself onto it, and promptly fell off. I tried hoisting my leg up over it, fell off again. In the meantime, kids are flying by me, all but vaulting over the hump one-handed. It was so hot and cramped in there, I was getting short of breath. I couldn't go back out, because a) I was not going to come this far and quit, by god, and b) too many people were backing up behind me. I hate enclosed spaces a lot, but not as much as I hate the humiliation of making people wait for my clumsy ass. So I gritted my teeth and launched myself at my short red nemesis. I'm sure I looked like a total spaz, flailing for purchase to get over a stupid hump of inflated plastic. Then, suddenly, I was going over!
Unfortunately, I was going over headfirst, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Here's a short transcript of what went through my head in those few seconds:
"Holy shit, I made it!"
"Falling on my head!"
"I'm going to break my neck!"
"I totally should have kept my helmet. God, what a stupid way to di--"
It was right in the middle of this thought that instinct and momentum took matters into their own hands. My head tucked under and I did a graceless somersault into the wall. I did a quick look around to make sure no one saw that, then fought my way through the rest of the course. Other than the exit chute surface being hotter than that of the sun, the rest passed without incident or injury to anything but my dignity.
Noah, bless his heart, had waited for me by the ladder to the water slide. We got back in line and climbed up the (slimy, wet) net ladder one after the other and slid down. The water was filthy yet refreshing, and we were done!
We walked over and handed our chain of beads to the race volunteer. I babbled something about us skipping one checkpoint, to which she nodded, noted our time, and told us we could keep the beads if we wanted. (You bet your ass we did! I'd never worked so hard for 6 plastic beads in my life.) Race over, we joined the party.
Of course, for us, "joined the party" = "wandered around looking for food and drink before Mom gnawed off her own hand". Noah was disappointed by the selection, and the fact that I had no cash to buy ice cream from the Ben & Jerry cart. He ate some watermelon and settled on a vitamin water, while I went for a burrito and beer. As he appointed himself and a group of newly-made friends (how does he DO that?) vitamin water tub attendants, I pulled out my phone to call Rob and let him know we were done.
Ruh-roh. I found my phone sticking to a soggy mess of map in my back pocket. At some point, I had caught the ziploc bag of supplies in my pocket's zipper, tearing the plastic. My waterlogged phone was, to quote the mayor of Munchkin City, "morally, ethically, spiritually, physically, positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably" dead. I took it apart and dried it out, but it was no use. After a few minutes, I gave up, put it in our race packet, and found a kind volunteer who lent me his phone to call Robert.
Though there was an award for all family race finishers, we did not stay to see what it was. We were both exhausted, wet, and grimy. Unless the prize was a shower and a dry change of clothes, it was just not worth it. We headed back to the hotel to meet Rob. And somehow missed him--but that story would make for a whole 'nother section, so I'm not going to get into it. :) We found each other eventually, and then found our way home.
So, despite the fights, injuries, and mayhem, I have to say we had a good time. Per the official race results, our finish time was 13:30:39 (I think they added 10 hours for the missed checkpoint), 43rd of 50 in the family race.
Considering that our only race goals were 1) don't quit, and 2) don't be dead last, we totally exceeded expectations. And hey--if you count only the people who didn't hit all the checkpoints, we were first! Woohoo!
Posted by Joy at June 29, 2006 03:08 PM
