Lining up: la gringa y los Ecuadorianos
Monstro, racing to win.
Iban, Ana´s dad, in his first xc race.
Across the river and through the woods, the lone ranger battles altitude.
La gringa, me, and Alexandra, the Pan-American Champion. I was a giant next to her and the other girl racing.
Pre-race rar.
Ladies line-up.
Looking confused and hoping that the reporter does not ask me to comment.
Another pre-race pose. Trying to figure out whether I should eat the granola bar or not. Nutritional specs are different here.
Galo, Ana´s good friend, who also happens to be the Pan-American Champion.
Through the Eucalyptus, smells wonderful.
Los padres de Ana.
Post-race. First through third got cans of WD-40, sweet.
Ana giving her dad his medal.
I am not putting up my podium shot. A, because I look like a giant man next to the two other girls; and B, because there were only three of us so I automatically podiumed, which does not neccessarily warrant anything in my book.
This past Sunday I entered and completed my first international race, in Cuenca-Ecuador. Although my body felt horrible throughout the majority of the race (hopefully because of altitude and not because of anything else) afterwards I felt wonderful, as well as content at having experienced my first international race, in their elite-pro category nonetheless. The way time works here is interesting, or rather the way it does not work, which I am quite fond of, just not when it comes to race starts. Seven AM I had a filling breakfast of apple cinnamon oatmeal, half a banana, and one egg scrambled, washed down with a full bottle of water. Around ten minutes to eight, Iban (Ana´s padre) and I rolled out on our rigs to pick up Teodoro (Toyo) as he would be accompanying us to take photos of the race. No different than the states, the line for picking up race numbers was off the hook, so I opted for three easy laps on the course. Now, this is their first cross country race of the season, and granted it takes place in the city of Cuenca, but I think it was about 95% asphalt and fireroad, with smidges of windings among Eucalyptus trees and maneuverings over tall curbs. As Ana put it appropriately, when comparing this race with the mountainous one to follow next week, ¨this one is more cross and the next one is more country.¨ Ultimately, I consider this one a cross race, as finishing time was around one hour and three minutes.
Back to the subject of time, and its existence versus its nonexistence, after having warmed up for close to an hour, taken both of my gels and consumed most of my water I was more or less ¨ready.¨ The race, on the other hand, was not. Occasionally this happens, especially at opening races, so after getting my number and practicing my Spanish a bit with the locals, an hour rolled by as kids races went on and off. Ten, we were set to go off at ten and do 5 laps at 3km each (look up the conversion). Ok. Lining up, riders´ names are called and they are checked off at present or not present... I was present, but my name apparently was not. Perhaps there had been something lost in translation at some point along the way, fascinating how that happens, but the reality of the matter was that my category was set to start at eleven AM and do 7 laps. Time for a major mental switch and re-preparation; with one gu, no water, a granola bar whose nutritional specs I could not quite decipher, and the approach of a mid-day sun, I decided to simply take the day, and the race, for what it was and cheer on Iban and Monstro before warming up again. The idea of time, as I always liked to speculate and practice, for the most part is a self-imposed construct; it can be both useful and useless, adhered to or ignored. In Cuenca, it is what you want it to be, so long as you remember that most everyone else has their own idea of time, too.
A quick recap of the race: I raced against two other girls in the elite-pro category, one is the current Pan-American Champion (Alexandra) and the other, one of her competitors. Needless to say, I got lapped by Alexandra, as did the other girl, so our laps were cut to six. Kind of ok by me, as I felt as if I were moving backwards. If I translated the announcements correctly, second place and I were about three minutes apart. I´ll take that, for now. I like riding alone, so the fact that the entire group that went after us actually passed me, except for some kid on platforms who I traded back and forth with for a bit, was something I was able to come to terms with. I only hope this sub-par performance is reflective of my current non-acclimated state of existence, and not much else. We shall see as time moves on, or rather, appears to move on.
Although a little confusing at times, an experience to make one stronger. On a side note, I am super excited for Ana´s dad, who got third in his first xc race (he is a triathlete and roadie) and also for Monstro, who was beyond nervous (he does not race much at all, maybe a few times), who came in for a win in his category. Yolanda, also, was a lifesaver when she shoved a tiny piece of banana in my hand on the last lap. If I translated correctly, I think I heard her comment that I looked like death. For my first race at 10,000 feet, I think that´s appropriate.
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