MATAHOMBRES 2009 - or - To KiLL a Man.

So, I'm back. It was about time I made myself an International reporter. Crazy Dad moving around so much that he decided to put some distance between himself and the family. Well, I guess what's good for the body is good for the soul!

Fortunately this was only "part-of-a-business-trip-turned-vacation", and I guess it had been quite some time in the making. Mommy was all for it, so what am I to say and put on the brakes onto a trip that appeared to be rewarding mentally as well as physically???

Alright, alright, time to cut through the chase already. I know Daddy will always carry me in his heart, and my heart will never be the same unless I can share some space in it with him...so it was a Wednesday morning when I waved good-bye and hopped on my bike to ride to school, and Daddy soon thereafter found himself in an airport boarding a plane first to Frankfurt and then to Madrid!

There is a lot to be said about uneventful travel and changing planes without stress - even a five hour layover seemed short to Dad considering the smoothness of all the transitions. And before Dad knew it there was Pablo to greet him and make him part of the family! Little did my Dad know that he practically had another life in Spain that he was going to live for the following four days. It almost seemed surreal starting from the late exquisite lunch that Pablo's mom had prepared, to the basketball game with some friends (Daddy still can't shoot worth a shit), to a night out about the town, to some relaxing time around the pool, to some favorite hidden spots for Tappas and Pizza (which YES apparently was invented in Spain), to a road-trip, a MTB bike race, a return to sanity in THE spa of Madrid, and a late dinner that will only be served in Spain. It all seems like a wonderful dream that I can't stop asking details about before Daddy puts me to bed every night.

But! We are here for the RACE. The RACE!!!

MATAHOMBRES 2009. 82 km (51 miles) + 2,000 m (6,561 ft) in accumulated ascents! If this didn't sound like a recipe to kill my Dad, it sure sounded like a lot of pain to me! But nonetheless, once the plan had been made Dad decided to break out of the mold a little more and started his own solo lunch ride in order to prepare for this event. And believe it or not - a little training here and there, can actually go quite a ways....

Pablo and Dad arrived in Camarena de la Sierra at about 4:00 pm on Saturday afternoon. Just enough time to find a spot for the car, check the bikes, pick up the race pack, check into the Youth hostel, eat some dinner, rest and chill until the options are limited to trying to getting some rest. By 6:00 a.m. the following morning the entire Youth Hostel was steaming with race anticipation. 600 bikers had enlisted to partake in this year’s edition of Matahombres! 600 Mountain Bikers - who to my Dad, all looked a lot more fit than he felt - but at least Pablo had been a big friend and gotten my Dad a ride that felt like being on top of a cloud - what could go wrong from here???

9:00 am. Fireworks go off! Dad: If there ever was a time to start peddling it is NOW! ........and they were off....... The race was a two-loop course roughly the shape of a figure eight. The first 40 km (25 miles) went by in a flash. It all started with a slow ascent followed by a much longer descent. I think Daddy kept on thinking the entire time: How is this possible? We will fu*king have to climb all of this again to make it back up to the village!!! And soon enough... here came the climbs.

Pablo and Dad waste no time thinking about stopping at the first fueling station. Why stop at a fueling station??? After a downhill??? Some gentle folk stand by the side of the street and cheer them on. Pablo and Dad find their spot in the line-up and climb and climb. Dad said that it felt like being in a row of ants laboring up a mountain. No chance to go faster then the lad in front of you, and NO CHANCE TO GO SLOWER either, because of the guy right on your tail! And then again, more downhill??? How is this possible???

After an amazing 2 hours and 20 minutes the first loop was complete! "Venga Chaval"! It sure wasn't going to continue being this easy. They had been warned about the second part!!!

They circled through Camarena de la Sierra, and then turned left to start making their way up the mountain. I think this is where Dad noticed that the pack was quickly falling apart, and the good, the bad, and the ugly started separating from one another. An approximately 16 km (10 miles) ascent to the peak of the mountain: El Pico de Javalambre! Also known for its Ski-Resort. 2020 m (6,627 ft). Pablo was quite the sport: So that Daddy didn't have to break his rhythm (what rhythm? - Daddy is not a dancer!), Pablo peddled ahead to the fueling stations and filled up the water bottles by the time my Daddy got there - so he didn't even have to stop - all he had to do is peddle, peddle, and peddle...and then peddle some more...and yes, eventually there was also a top to this mountain.

To keep things interesting a small thunderstorm was developing off to the left on the adjacent mountain range. The race manager, after having made sure to point out that there was a time cut-off, had also mentioned that the chance of having to cancel the race in case of severe weather existed. I think that's all Dad was thinking about on the last 5 Km of the climb. I'm gonna get to the top of this mountain - and then they are going to ask me to stop - because of this cute thunderstorm that's brewing up. And all I'm going to be able to say is: Oh, no.

But there was no way Pablo wasn't going to stop for some food at this probably last fueling station. Dad kept on thinking: So there I'm going to be. After having ridden 60 km, I'm going to be stuffing my face with a banana, and I'm gonna look up to see the race manager standing in front of me, shaking his said, saying: Lo siento, pero tenemos que cancelar. Pablo? PABLO!! We have to keep moving. I didn't come here to get cancelled in the middle of the race. NO. No. no. Somebody is saying: Raul......, but it's somebody else talking to someone Daddy doesn't know. Pablo, listo ya??? And off they go!

I think this is the point where the happiness starts settling in for Dad. There is a whole lot of downhill ahead. No more checkpoints! No more race managers. There is only one way down! Only one way to get back to the village! And it's down. down. DOWN!!!
Later when they check the speedometer it seems to have clocked out somewhere around 68 kmh (42.5 mph) - not bad for a gravel road.

Daddy is so excited that on the way down he decides to go through a puddle of mud and pick up a couple of extra pounds of mud. Hey! If it isn't a mountain bike race!!!

One more uphill to battle, and then the icing on the cake!

Senda! Senda??? Singletrack?!? Yes, sir! Single track. After mostly mountain and fire roads there was now to be singletrack! This is the stuff my Daddy likes to kill for! About 14 km remain - and it appears that these are going to be singletrack. What a dream come true. The adrenaline from flying down the mountain and the anticipation of most likely finishing this race turn out to be a giant kick in the butt for my Dad. The singletrack is beautiful. Narrow and winding. Changing terrain. There was brush and bushes, then there were trees, then rocky plains, and occasionally a rider or two, and too much of a temptation to not leave them behind. At one point Dad starts an attack from far left field pushing as hard as he can, no longer near the trail at all, peddling becoming difficult with rocks and roots and who knows what making the ride quite bumpy. The two guys Daddy is about to pass look up! Daddy is not sure if he sees surprise, fear or anger in these beaten faces after having completed about 8/9th of the race - but can only think about keeping on peddling. Once back on the trail Daddy is struggling for air. But there is no way he is going to stop now after just having blown past these two dudes. Air or not - these wheels need to keep moving. Daddy can feel the breath of someone on his neck, and soon he hears the familiar hum of Pablo's disc break: Pablo, eres tu, tio??? Si si, soy YO! I think we left them behind. At this point they are not even sure if those two guys just stopped after they had passed them. But time's a waste'n. No need to slow down now. They have the village in their sight! Volunteers urge them to slow down at every subsequent turn they take, bringing them closer to the finish, and then the clock marks 5 hours 32 minutes. Race completed! Finishers 317 and 318 have returned home.

Boy what joy it must have been to finish! On the way back to the Youth Hostel Pablo keeps laughing at Dad because he is walking soooooo slow. But there is that smile on my Dad's face, which was worth every bit of pain it took to put it there.

Carrboro Classic 2009 - Long Course Duathlon

Someone PLEASE help this man!

At last: The remake of last year!!! The event WE all have been waiting for!!! This is the event where Daddy is going to break the 3-hour hurdle… or so at least he dreamed! Well??? It was definitely another body breaking torture adventure!

So…! ? ! It all started about a year ago when a friend suggested participating in this race. Run, Bike, Run? Why not. Run I can, Bike I can. Run again? Mmmm – why not? Glad there is no swimming involved to say the least. So, we signed up last year (there is an earlier blog for this!), and have been waiting for the remake ever since we crossed that finish line last year. While we had nothing but rain last year, it was nothing but sun this year! Niiiiccccccccccccccccceeee! And!!!!!!!!! Half the neighborhood signed up for it – so we had all kinds of friends running around all morning! Definitely made for a more fun day for sis and myself, not to mention slow-moving mom these days!

But ok, back to the beginning! Up at the crack of dawn, Daddy makes his way to the race with Rick, Kathy and the rest of the clan. The bike is put-up in the transition area, and one is tempted to contemplate on how to warm up and where to take that last pee??? Bob and Klaas are discovered in the crowd, and last minute race-pep talk is exchanged: “So, what you end up doing last night ???” Dad almost misses the start as he is walking up to the starting line next to Kathy. Come on, dude – it’s a race and you signed up for it! The MEN (!!!) get to start 3 minutes early (only to be later passed by a bunch of fast women)…but Dad apparently was off to a good start, and only later disappointed that his run time (39:54.95 – 8:02 min/mile – 57th place) wasn’t as fast as it had felt to him (maybe it is time for starting to wear a watch during these races???) – he kicked ASS in the transition time though (1:11.00 min), but the bike didn’t feel as good as he had expected it to feel! Are we finally getting back to being the runner we thought we had always been? Well, probably not, but the day made for a beautiful bike ride! The bike pace was steady and fast with an 19.1 mph average (I know!!! That is unbelievable 30.6 kmh – 48th place). There was a group of approximately five bikers Dad was “hanging with” – naturally there is no drafting allowed in tri races, and an undercover race sheriff driving by at high speed in his VW Touareg makes a point of reminding everyone (is this still the neighborhood race we thought it was???) – I think the "sheriff" was actually coaching one of the women. Wow, Daddy! Now you're good! You are actually keeping up with one of the faster women!?! The last “older” gentleman Daddy passed was sure to pass him again on the second run. Daddy knew he had that coming for him…(just like last year…only it was more women passing him last year!).

Anyway, more running on cleats as Daddy transitions again from bike to running. Dad did manage do to his homework this time though. Constant foot gymnastics and low gear peddling during the last 2 miles of the race guaranteed legs that weren’t asleep when he had to get off the bike again (and not forgetting to mention not closing the shoes too tight this time – duhh, Dad!). But what was this pain in the rest of his body he was feeling??????? What was all this shoulder ache, this hip pain, these legs that didn’t want to run again, and these feet that forgot how to roll from heel to toe and wanted to land like a flat piece of 2x4 every time they touched the ground?? Who had forgotten about them? What about THEIR homework? Well?!? Apparently more training is in place for them?!! Mmmm…. After a quick hug and kiss for the whole family in the transition area (1:08.15 min), and a quick but painful “everything is going GREAT” (ahhh, this fu*king pain? where the hell is it coming from?) Daddy was off to run again, tip toeing in the beginning (Mommy laughs! – I say: What are you doing Daddy??? Is that how you are going to run the whole thing?!?)) – but at last this time feeling like he can actually move and feel his feet and legs again, determined to kick butt on the second run….he constantly shifts from “wow, I can’t believe the speed I am running at…..to….wow….I don’t think I can keep running at this pace…..am I going to finish??? But yes, we did finish. As I see my poor old man struggling up the last hill, mom shouts out to him: “we’ll meet up with you after that last turn-around and you can pick up the kids!” ??? Huh? Pick who up??? I am going to run!!! This is my high time now!!! Little sis briefly contemplates running into the finish, too – but than decides against it as I clamp onto Daddy’s hand and once again, and drag him across that finish line in: 3:11:53.55 – 54th out of 91 participants, 5th out of 8 in his age group, and 40th amongst MEN!
So, he improved by 15 minutes over last year! Wow! Not bad at all. But he still sucked win on that second run -> only 27 seconds over last year! Huhhh – I’m telling you, he is not a runner!!!

So that’s it! But since it was such a nice day, we decide to stick around for the awards ceremony as we are promised lots of free giveaways! The first pleasant surprise is that Rick and Kathy who participated as a Team won 3rd place! The next pleasant surprise is that they also win a free nights stay at a Motel (not sure what that is good for, but anyway), and then vintage T-shirt giveaways from last year's race are being handed out. Sorry, already got one! The whole time it seems like Dad is not really into it, and Mom is getting a little frustrated with him: "Don’t you want to win anything?" Oh, YES HE DID! Just as the race crew is wrapping things up he reminds them about the free-entry giveaway for the 2009 Chapel Hill Ramblin Rose Triathlon (a fabulous and famous WOMEN ONLY Super Sprint Triathlon). The friendly race hand sends Dad back into the “crowd” and after a couple of other things, when Daddy starts jumping up and down vigorously and spraying Mommy and me with his water bottle the same friendly race hand announces: “ The free-entry to the Ramblin Rose goes to??? THE MAN! And he points at DAD! We WON, we won, WE WON! Mom is ecstatic! Being 27 weeks pregnant with number 3 obviously limits her ability to be jumping up and down, but she is all smiles and so proud of Daddy. She has competed in the last two editions of this beautiful race, but was afraid to sign up for it this year, since it will be approximately 3 month after delivery. The race sold out quickly anyway, and before she could have made up her mind the window of opportunity had passed by – only to come back now! Mom and Dad walk up hand in hand (so beautiful) to accept the price, and the race hand wants to know their names and starts chatting with them. A few words of encouragement to Mom: Ohh, you can do it!!! – and the happy people remember that they still have a couple of kids on the lawn! Alright, wrap it up gang – we are out of here and high tailing it into Spring Break! I got this Dad all to myself for the next 8 days!

This is THE ONLY way to finish!

Cary Long Course Duathlon - 03/21/09

Run – Bike – Run

Hello again! You’re back at it with your infamous 4-year old reporter (soon to be five – YESSSSS!) .

This race was a bonus, an add-on so to speak. Originally it wasn’t really clear whether my Dad was going to participate in it or not – but finally (after all that training…) he decided to sign up for it – only to catch a cold the next day after he had signed up for it. That was Wednesday – and yes, correct, the race was on Saturday. Mmm, not enough to make him smile every morning he got up with a sore throat. But well, lots of sleep finally cured it enough to have him get out of bed and drive to Cary Saturday morning. The race-pack pick-up had been Friday afternoon after 5:00 pm – I don’t think he’s ever going to do that again – traffic comes to a halt in Cary at 5:00 pm on Friday. What are all these people doing??? Picnics in the road? Waiting for the lights to turn red so that they can continue to be parked in the middle of the road??? No wonder no one was there besides him when he had finally made it to the store…

It was so nice of him to have gone to the pick-up the day before though. I didn’t want to miss him the next morning. Sometimes it feels like all we are waiting for to hear from him is: Is it the weekend? Is it the weekend? IS IT THE WEEKEND? FINALLY! Sis and me love it when he doesn’t say: I love you, gotta go to work! Cause it means it’s Saturday! It’s Sunday! It’s OUR day! Its US. US. USSSSSS!!!

So, I know, he did have to leave this morning, too. But I knew he was going to this race, and that he was looking forward to it. But we did have breakfast together before, and we all promised to meet up with him before he was going to cross the finish line. I mean, I don’t think he actually knows how to cross the finish line when I’m not there.

All in all the race went pretty well. The first run wasn’t bad at all – and Mr. Thrifty was making sure he wasn’t going to spent everything he got before even getting on the bike (5 miles/8 km in 39.44 min). Though I think someone must have overheard him saying right after getting onto the bike: …”enough with the fu*king running already”…I think that’s the only way he could have ended up with that 15 minute penalty that put him so far down on the list of finishers. Je je. Anyhuh, the biking was the best! Again. He wouldn’t stop telling Mom on how much faster he was with those new shiny tires he got, and she wouldn’t stop telling him how much faster he would be if he would get a new bike. Those two! I tell you. I thought all the hugging and kissing only works wonders for us. But boy, do those faces light up when they get a kiss or two.

The biggest troubling question during these races of course always is: What to wear? And more importantly: How many layers of it! Personally I always vote for the pink shirt and the long underpants – but somehow that never ends up being what he is wearing when I see him again (Dude!!! This morning! I saw a neighbor walking his 5” dog wearing ? what do they call those? Bademaentel? No, damn it, in English??? Bathrobe, That’s it! Bathrobe. He was wearing a bathrobe!!! AND! It was too short. It was gray…it was totally out of a bad movie. I think Daddy winked at him as he drove past him in his red sports car. Wow! I love this neighborhood.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, …the race! So, a steady pace of 18.1 mph took Dad around Lake Jordan (31 miles/50 km in 1.44 hours), along with the other about 150 racers that were out there that day. Some mom in a minivan with kids in the back must have been looking for her glasses as she nearly took out three of the racers, and one of the Cops wanted to meet everyone personally before waving hysterically that we had missed the turn! But all in all, we couldn’t have asked for a better day in March. Not one cloud in the sky (or on the brain)!

But then! Running again. I know, we have been through this already. One of the fellow racers was trying to cheer up Dad (not the easiest thing when you are passing him) by saying – Come on, Raoul (somehow they met during the bike portion) – keep it up – and all Dad could mumble was: “I can’t feel my feet. Actually, I’m not even sure I’m feeling my legs right now”. Running on two rubber sticks can’t be that much fun I guess. That’s what someone at work asked my Dad today, too: And you do this for fun, right????

As we are driving into the park we see Daddy running on the side of the street. Boy, he’s pretty happy to see us! Mom wants to know if he has to run another lap??? No, this is it! he says with a very big smile! Yeah! He’s done already (5 more miles in pitiful 47.58 min – that gave him an overall finish time of 3:14:06, 64th place out of 106 MEN – the best placement he got was for T2 change time: 1:02 minutes. Rank 35!!! He really couldn’t wait to start running again…- all the details are here: http://www.fsseries.com/results.php?rs=79 ). Grandma throws it into low gear and races up to the finish line as everyone scrambles out of the car falling everywhere and nowhere.

It takes little or no coordination, and it really doesn’t matter – we make it to the finish line and we are all standing there, cheering. I run up to him, grab his hand, and pull him across the finish line! Everyone is happy!

Virginia Beach Cyclocross Winter Endurance Challenge

Ok. You know, my Dad, well, he has decided 2009 is going to be the year where there will be more time for races! Not sure what brought this change of fate, we did compete in 3 races in 2008 after all - but well, apparently this needs to be overcome quickly in 2009. And of course, me the 4 year old reporter, is left stranded out here on the information highway to report on it all. Boy, what luck you are in for...Did I mention, that yours truly was also scheduled to compete in his first bicycle race? EVER! Yeah, for real! Take of the training wheels (no pretending, please), give me a bigger bike (I don't care if it's already broken in) and let me peddle, peddle, peddle until I can't anymore.


So, over the Christmas Holiday we end up getting this e-mail from Kale Running (please, tell me WHY? somebody!) and it advertises this CycloWhat race in Virginia. I thought Cyclocross was dead since the birth of Mountain Biking? Little did I know, but that might be a subject for someone elses blog. Anyhuhh - Why not go to Virginia Beach in January and freeze our butts off, and on top of that compete in below freezing conditions in a Cyclocross Winter Endurance Challenge? They did have a Kid's race, what more excuses did we need.....this may drag on forever..... the same mail mentions a SUPERHOT deal with a local Hotel - right on the Beach - Oceanview Rooms ONLY. So hard to resist the urge to book something immediately - where is my credit card, WHERE IS MY CREDIT CARD?!?


So, we end up in the car heading up to Virginia Beach this past Friday right after work, as the entire East Coast is bracing itself for the coldest temperatures of the year. Priceless timing! Thanks to GPS we get to the Hotel No Problem No Questions. Wake up to what??? Oceanview, of course. Head down for the complimentary breakfast. Biscuits, Jam and Chocolate Milk. YUM!!! What do you mean we have to go to the Sports Complex? Now? It is -6 C outside (21 F). Well, Daddy's 35+ (or Masters as they like to call it) starts at 10:00 am. It is 9:00 am now - better get going Gang. And remember, the Kid's race is scheduled to start at 12:00. Somebody work for the Child Protection Agency. Somebody? SOMEBODY???

Nice bike, dude.

So, Daddy seems to think it is cool to ride Grandpa's road bike converted to Cyclocross Monster thanks to some brand spanking new Michelin Cyclocross Tires - man, those Germans! I think what the people on the sidelines were later overheard saying was: "...he's keeping up with them pretty good..." - Way to go, Dad! You came in 9th of the 10 nutcases that had nothing better to do that morning. I think he was later saying that he picked a bad race category (tough competition - who else in that age category is going to compete unless they are serious about it - and unfavorable conditions - only the hardcore comes out at below freezing temperatures). Not bad to be a part of that, though. At the line up Dad found out that he had fastened the number incorrectly to the front of his Jersey. Since this was a Cyclocross race, you are supposed to fasten it to the left side, so it can be easily observed when you come through the checkpoint after every lap. A friendly race hand immediately offered confused Dad to help with the re-fastening of the race number, and due to Dad's clumsiness (must have been nervous) quickly but quite assertively says: "I got it" - causing Dad to simply have to wait until one of the safety pins enters his flesh. Hey, at least the number was in the right place. What's the fuss all about?


So, yup, he finished 9th out of 10 at a lightning speed of 13.6 mph (21.76 kmh), and a total of 6 laps. Temperature of his feet at the end of the race had also reached 21 F. Official results (for those so inclined) can be found here: http://results.active.com/pages/displayNonGru.jsp?rsID=74664

Hey! Wait for me.

But, more importantly. Next was the Kid's Race at 12:00 Noon. It was me, against two too tall girls, probably twice my age. When the race organizer said go, I just kind of looked at him, thinking "why did you just say GO? Wait! Where are those girls going?" We were of and peddling. Dad was such a sport to run next to me the whole time. We get to the first hill, and the tall grass brings the bike to a halting stop (remember, this IS CYCLOCROSS after all). Up I go, pushing the bike. If those girls could do it, sure enough I can, too. At the top of the hill I look at my Dad and his last words were: "Now you can get back on the bike and ride down!" Down? Ok. Faster, faster, ever so much faster I go. I start screaming. SCREAMING. AHHHHHHH, and then it's all over. I'm at the bottom! AND! I AM STILL RIDING! Let's do that again! I get to the next hill, but I already know the drill now! Push the bike up the hill. Get on. And ride down. Piece of cake. How old am I again? Ah, what does it matter. The next stretch is that Monster Grass again, trying to pull me of my bike. But not with me, Mister! As I am pulling up onto the concrete for the final stretch of the race, faintly I hear my Dad somewhere in the distance: "...faster, faster..." Oh, faster I can on concrete my friends!!! The crowd is going wild as I pull into the finish. 3rd place! My day is MADE!

Only a Champion can smile like this! What Helmet?

What's one to do after all that excitement? Decide that it definitely is too cold to spend more than 5 minutes on the Beach (Kites don't fly in the cold anyway - nice try though, Dad), but warm enough to stay for hours in the warm Hotel Pool, that we had all to ourselves. Thanks!!! And next? Waiters in white dresses, Valet Parking, artistically folded napkins? Uhhhhhh - this place looks like fun. Il Giardino. Make sure to make it your stop if you ever end up on Virginia Beach. Be sure to make reservations, unless you are coming early and are bringing the kids. Believe it or not. The place was packed.


Next Morning? Rewind. Start over. Only difference? Instead of sun, full cloud cover. +3 C ( 37 F) instead of - 6 C (21 F). Light breeze. And, oh yes, Duathlon instead of just Cyclocross. 5k Run, 20k Cyclocross, 5k Run. Dad would have never thought that he was such a bad runner, but I guess it is true! The good thing about the running part was that the feet actually had a chance to get warm before he had to get on the bike. He later explained that the biking was so great! I guess he never would have guessed (being an avid mountain biker) that he would get so much pleasure out of passing dudes on their mountain bikes with their fat tires, than he did on that day. It all paid off in the end. On the first run he placed 49th out of 62 (remember I said BAD RUNNER), but on the bike 20th, and on the second run 45th (WOW!) - all in all to finish 30th out of 62. Not bad, Dad. Mom blamed it all on the bike anyway.

Yup! That guy to the left almost beat me...

As we were quickly packing up after the finish, ice pellets started coming down. We were out of there for a pleasant drive home with me sleeping most of the time and my sister talking to herself and entertaining anybody who wanted to be entertained. Boy, those cheese sandwiches were good though, weren't they Mom?









This is where it all happened: http://www.vbchallenge.kalerunning.com/media.html