Xterra Budget Bonks--Regional Champs Must Pay for Prizes

In all the news about triathlon's growth--even during the recession!--it's hard to believe that maybe, just maybe, some of the race production companies, even the big ones, are actually hurting.

Earlier this year, Xterra announced it was moving the USA Championship, which was held in Incline Village, NV the past 8 years, to Ogden, UT. It was a slap in the face to SoCal Xterra lovers who also lost every race within a 5 hour radius of Los Angeles, including Xterra Temecula, a Worlds and Nationals qualifier.

The reason for the move: The Nevada Commission on Tourism cut their budget, and couldn't help out with Xterra. They previously helped fund the event, the marketing, and the 1-hour tv show of the event.

Recently, Regional Champions have become aware of Xterra's financial woes. If you were a regional champ this year, you might have gotten an email that looks like this:

Aloha Regional Champ! Congratulations on spending all of your money on racing the Xterra circuit this year, pouring your all into training, and kicking ass. (I'm paraphrasing...or something like that...) You've joined an exclusive club, and earned the right to wear an Xterra Regional Champ jersey. You want it? 60 bucks and its yours.

OK, so it wasn't written exactly like that, but that's the gist of it. Xterra couldn't secure sponsorship for the prize this year.

Before getting ticked at Xterra for doing this, we must remember that many other races do the same thing. You must earn the jersey, of course, but if you want it, you must pay. A lot of ultracycling events are like this (like Planet Ultra's Triple Crown jersey).

Xterra, however, raised the bar on itself, providing world-class events all over the place over the past several years, with excellent (free!) prizes. So we expect more from them.

What do you think. Should Xterra have found a way to give Region Champs their jersey's free of charge, or is charging totally OK?

Xterra Lake Tahoe- The Report

I had one goal going into Big Blue Adventure's Xterra Lake Tahoe: to beat my friend Aaron. He's a fabulous mountain biker and runner. I'm a faster swimmer, and have a little more endurance for climbing.

The plan: beat him out of the water, hold him off on the bike, then run scared.

Part one went off OK. Aaron's bike was still hanging out when I got into T1. However, my brand spanking new Adidas Spezials had given me horrendous heel blisters a few days earlier, so I spent what felt like an eternity trying to put mole skin on my raw bits. Then I spent another small eternity trying to pull the middle finger of my left glove right-side out. How did that happen?

Still ahead of Aaron by some minuscule margin, I jumped on Qeee (my mtn bike) and headed out and up Tunnel Creek. And here is where the beauty of racing Tahoe as a points race instead of Nationals came into play.


Hundreds of people did not pass me on the climb, since hundreds of people weren't competing. And the people who did were very nice about it, since they weren't competing for a national title. This was the first year in three where I haven't had to yell, "Swim faster!" when some jerk came up on me and told me to get out of his way. It just didn't happen. Much more civilized calls of, "On your left, when you have a chance!" were the norm.


Two girls in my age group passed me toward the end of Tunnel Creek. It was game time. I tried to stay on girl #2's wheel through the Flume Trail, and when she stopped after the mandatory dismount, I took off ahead of her. Girl #1 had disappeared. Bah!

Riding around Marlette Lake, a Team Type 1 triathlete passed me, and that was about all. It was the most peaceful climb out of Martlette Lake I have ever done, which is a strange revelation to have during a race.

Then came my favorite part: the gnarly switchback descent. I saw girl #1 ahead of me, and noticed she was a very strong climber, but a cautious technical rider. I would use the switchbacks as my chance to get ahead. I bounced down them as best I could, but when I stuck my foot out to corner one switchback, I felt my left arch rip. Ohhh crap. But I was too elated that Aaron had not yet blasted by me that I flew back down Tunnel Creek and into T2 without giving my evil arch a second thought.

I shoved my new racing flats on and ran for it. Toward the end of the first loop, a ridiculously tall man and I were running together at exactly the same pace. I forged ahead so I wouldn't step on his heels, and he stayed on mine throughout the entire run. I passed Mr. Team Type 1, and one other woman, and ran into the finish line feeling rad--I beat my time from 2007 by about 10 whole seconds. Ha! But most importantly, I beat Aaron. I hadn't had more than a sip of water before he came through the chute 3 minutes behind me. It was a tight race, but we hadn't seen each other the entire time!


My time, which placed me 3rd in 2007's 20-24 age group, placed me first in this race's 25-29 age group. Coachubby had finished before I started my second run loop, and was out cheering for me. He had won the male 25-29 age group, making him the 2009 West Region Champion! Woo hoo!

While the fierce competition of Xterra USA (now at Ogden) is fabulous as it pushes an athlete to her max potential--to race harder than she ever thought she could--I had no qualms with Xterra Lake Tahoe and its totally "Xterra" laid-back atmosphere. I don't need the big flashy expo, or the fancy banquet. I do need the Lake Tahoe course, and so to Big Blue Adventure, I am grateful.

They kept my favorite race course of all time alive--it's the only race I've done 4 years in a row and there's a reason. (And that reason is certainly not the people of Incline Village.) It's the camaraderie of Xterra triathletes, which is sometimes forgotten in the heat of nationals competition, and the beauty of the Xterra course.

Oh yes, and having the race at the end of August instead of the beginning of October, when it has been known to snow--yes, snow!--before and/or during the race: PRICELESS.

(The only downside is the evil foot. I have not been able to run since, keeping my streak of destroying some body part at every single Xterra event I've ever done alive...but it was worth it! Photos courtesy of Rosalie, Aaron's girl.)

Being a Girl Sucks Big Time Sometimes: Xterra Lake Tahoe, From the Beginning

A while back, I had thought of writing an article on athletes who, for some reason, were either forced into early retirement, forced to significantly reduce their training, or forced to cease training completely for a long period of time. What does it mean to pros and to amateurs, exactly, to be an athlete? How much do we let the fact that we are athletes (or specifically triathletes) define ourselves, and what do we do and feel when it's taken away from us? 

I thought of Greg Welch, Chris O'Riordan, a Stanford walk-on baseball player who was drafted into the Major League, and was quickly forced to retire due to (I believe) a shoulder injury. I thought of the week when my doctor called me and told me not to move when he realized my heart skipped a beat. That news didn't help the situation. 

A few weeks ago, my beachy best friend, and ultracycling/endurance sports buddy in crime started having trouble breathing. I thought maybe she'd developed sports-induced asthma. On August 22nd, she had planned on running a torturous 50K in the Santa Monica Mountains. 

She began having trouble breathing on a steep, 4-mile climb named Bulldog in Malibu Creek State Park. She ran/walked the entire first loop. Race officials at the aid stations made her drink salt water, claiming it would relieve her symptoms. I can only guess they thought she was dehydrated...or that somehow, salt water would coat her lungs and calm them down...

When she came walking toward coachubby and me at the end of the 25K loop, she was upset and frustrated. She considered running again, but bowed out.

She went to see a doctor a few days later, who quickly diagnosed her with pleuritis, told her to take anti-inflammatory drugs and she'd be fine. 

So last Thursday (a week ago) she came spinning with me, believing it would all clear up eventually. She stayed through the entire class, even though she was struggling. At the end of class, after several minutes off of the bike, she was still having trouble catching her breath, and had a sharp pain in her left side. A school nurse in class told her she should get it checked out at an ER. I told her I'd pick her up in half an hour.

Off we went to Kaiser Permanente, where she was admitted immediately. They took a chest xray and blood. Both were completely normal--except for her d-dimer, an indicator of possible blood clots. Just to be safe, the doctor said, perhaps they should take a CT scan.

You might as well do it while we're here, I said. So we sat, watching her heart beat in a beautiful, uninterrupted (and slightly boring, I must say, particularly compared to mine) rhythm, for 2 hours. When they took her back for the scan, I went outside to continue hacking away at a ginormous history book.

An hour later, I got a text: "I have blood clots, will you come inside?"

Robyn was devastated. She had pulmonary embolisms on both sides. She would have to be started on blood thinners immediately, and most likely would be on them for an entire year, during which time riding a bike outside, and trail running are out of the question. All exercise, at least for the first 1-2 months is not allowed, except for a nice walk here and there. 

Just like that, she had gone from kicking my ass at everything I ever set out to do (double centuries, distance running) to being placed on a year long round of rat poison and enough pain killers to sedate a small army. 

Just like that, she had gone from being in shape enough to run a very difficult 50K in under 6 hours to having to rethink what role exercise is going to take in her life for a year.

Around 7:30pm, her boyfriend JZ arrived, and I left to shovel food down my face, and get ready to go to Tahoe the next morning with coachubby. I felt terrible leaving her like that. I could never understand how she felt upon hearing that news, but I like to think I can sympathize just a little from my week of sincerely believing my days as an endurance athlete were over. 

31 and totally healthy, Robyn had no reason to believe this could happen to her. And neither did anybody else--until they found out she'd started a birth control regimen in May. YAZ should officially change its name to NOZ and be taken off of the market. The mix of that drug and Robyn's chemistry proved almost fatal. And I had encouraged the use of birth control as a way to avoid unwanted visitors during race days and long training weekends.

Coachubby and I left on Friday to drive to Tahoe with heavy hearts, but excited to race for Robyn. After all, she had raced without full use of her lungs--it was the least we could do to push it at altitude!

Xterra Lake Tahoe, Pulmonary Embolisms, And People with Sticks Up Their Butts: A Race Report, Backwards

My mom taught me to take the "high road" whenever other people stoop low, insinuating that they are somehow better than I am for whatever incomprehensible reason. And I always do.

Not because I think about "being the better person", but because my brain has a 2-10 minute witty comeback delay. The incident is always over before the comeback is fully formed.

So, to the man lying on a beach chair on the beach in Incline Village next to his fat, bejeweled wife, and bratty kids, who was appalled that coachubby and I should rinse off in his lake post-race, telling us to get a room and oh, by the way, you put your stuff on my beach chair, that was rude, I have something to say other than, "OK, maybe we'll do that next year" or, "It's all yours!" after removing our bags from the chair-in-question:

Maybe if you did an Xterra, it would help loosen up that stick in your ass.
And maybe if your wife did an Xterra, you'd see that you have an extra beach chair; she's currently using one for each cheek.

The $17,000 Triathlon--XTERRA Deuces Wild

The drive up the 60 from Phoenix to Show Low is supposed to be spectacularly scenic. I wouldn't know. Every marked scenic overlook looked into a dark abyss.

Coachubby and I did, however, see several deer. I hoped they weren't suicidal--Laree did not need any body damage in his first 24-hours in our hands.

We arrived at the KC Motel at 12:30am on Sunday. I was pleasantly suprised at how nice it was. I pictured a cold dumpy place, not a quaint place to stay filled with fellow Xterra people.

I passed out, only to be awakened at 5:15am. Time to race! I seriously contemplated sleeping through it, but coachubby would have none of that.
(Coachubby's self portrait.)
We sunscreened up, picked up our packets, and joined the other 150+ people getting ready to race. I finally saw Xterra 29er and his wife, my favorite fellow Xterra people with whom we were going to spend the weekend.

And thus God's 2nd Goal of the weekend for Erin (GoGoFoE#2) manifested itself: I can pull together a decent race on 4 hours of sleep.

I sprinted out of the swim start. I don't know why. But I never dreamed I'd actually be the first person in the swim, therefore I'd never bothered to look at the buoy placement, and had no idea where to go. After I settled into a comfortable pace, a few other women overtook me and my glorious start was put to an end. That's what I get for having a sprint-swim background.

One of these women had pink feet. I kid you not. She taped them or something, thereby making them very recognizable and easy to follow. I followed her right out of the water, then had the luck of getting a better wetsuit stripper (hell yes, wetsuit strippers! Love them!) And dashed into transition only to take a small eternity trying to get my gloves over my wet hands.

Then out onto the bike. I haven't mountain biked since the Xterra West Cup, and Qeee was ready to go. Then we hit something we'd never encountered before: mud. Tons of mud. Qeee was ecstatic; now she actually had a reason for being outfitted with fancy schmancy disc brakes.














At one point, I had to stop to clear the mud out of her vital organs. The back wheel was hardly spinning. Apparently, Xterra 29er had the same problem, only he's a better mountain bike racer and didn't want to take the time to stop...so he wound up breaking a chain and bending his deraileur into his back wheel, and running the last 2.5 miles.


















I was happy to see him run out of transition while I was biking in.
"I'm coming to get you!" I shouted. I had no idea he'd already been running forever. With a bike. And an old-man back.

The run course was fun, and the "Eliminator" was a cute little hill that was actually labeled so you'd know it was the "Eliminator". There was a "mini eliminator" as well, but I'm not sure where.

Coming into the final miles, I heard water moving, and wondered who on earth wanted to jump back into the freezing lake to rinse off. Then I realized nobody wanted to--we had to run across a damed up part of the lake.

So much for new shoes.

A girl my age was running just behind me with another woman. I know because I passed her pretty early on, then heard them talking to each other for the rest of the race. I tried to keep them off of me, but the mystery woman was dead set on helping the 28-year old keep pace with me. I knew she'd go for it at some point, and knew my quads wouldn't be able to lift my soaked shoes to stay with her (shoes that were a gazillion lbs heavier with soaked massive arch supports...can I get a woot woot from my flat-footed friends?!)

The other woman led her out and at about 1/4 mile to go, she made her move. My legs didn't. Goodness only knows what would've happened had I raced the half the day before. I don't know if "running" would have been the word for my movement on the third segment of the Xterra race.

Then, just before the finish, the lady running with the 28-year old in my age group peeled off, saying she wasn't in the race, and the 28-year old crossed the finish line.

SHE USED A PACER!? I'm pretty sure using a pacer who's not in the race is illegal--in any triathlon. Quite unsportsmanlike. FOR SHAME!

In the end, coachubby and I managed to nab 2nd in our respective age groups (actually 3rd for me. You gotta count the girl who got 5th overall. The race organizers took the top 5 overall out of the age group awards...)

We scarfed down a post race bbq--delicious--of pulled chicken/pork on a bun, cole slaw, beans, chips, and soda, while attending the awards ceremony. Then it took 20 minutes to clean off Qeee and Coachubby's mountain bike (kudos to him for kicking ass with v-brakes!), load 'em up, and off we went...

In the wrong direction!

When I saw a sign that said New Mexico was 43 miles away, I knew something was wrong. We had driven 25 miles in the wrong direction right off the bat, and had to return to Show Low to try again.

We were trying to drive through Flagstaff back to LA.

Once we got the hang of it, Laree transported us smoothly across the state border. And after a low-blood sugar freak out that could not be sated by any McDonalds (they are all closed inside after 11pm and we couldn't drive through with coachubby's tri bike on top. A Pilot Wendy's frosty did the trick.) we pulled into LA just minutes before midnight, with cool little race award plaques, dirty bikes, sore quads, sunburns, and a new car.

In conclusion, an approximation of our trip:

Race fees + hotel: $700
New Car + Uhaul + rental car + repair diagnostics + gas: $16300
Racing XTERRA in Show Low: Priceless

There are some things money can't buy. For everything else, there's coachubby's credit card. And a learned ability to not hurl from internally freaking out at unexpected life events.


The things we do to race 2.5 hours at an Xterra event...

The $17,000 Triathlon--Deuces Wild Part Deuce

"What condition is the Blazer in?"
My mom, dad, and I shot our eyes at coachubby.
"Uh, he runs a little rough--but he's 9 years old, so..."

We had spent the entire morning putting the Blizzay Wizzay back together, returning the UHaul, and test driving horribly wussy American crossovers and terribly girly-looking Japanese crossovers.

After the Chevy salesman tried to sell us a car that was already sold, then tried to have us test drive a car that had a dead battery, we left for lunch. Chevy is running a little rough. All of Chevy, not just the old Blazer.

After deciding Toyota's crossover options were not competitively priced, or particularly manly enough for coachubby, I suggested we go to a Jeep dealership. They're all closing--they'd give us a car!

Our salesman was friendly. He knew nothing about the cars, but that was to be expected after he explained that he was actually a laid off civil engineer. I'm guessing he didn't build cars.

When coachubby laid his eyes on a kakhi green 2006 Grand Cherokee, I knew any efforts of mine to have our next car be infinitely more fuel efficient than the Blizzay were shot. Turns out, after all of that looking, coachubby wanted a mantruck afterall.

The salesman was visibly relieved when I had finished the second half of a footlong sub, and was no longer dangerously dangling sweet onion sauce over his clean cars. It was time to make a deal.

Coachubby offered $4000 below asking price. They came back at $2000 below.

We drove away to think about it.

Half way home, a phone call came. They'd do $4000 below, everything included (taxes, etc...) out the door, if we came back right now with the Blizzay as a trade in.

SWEET!

We rushed home and prayed the Blizzay would fire up. It had that morning. All it had left to do in its entire life was go 7 more miles. What's 7 more when you've already gone 155,000?

After a quick charge, coachubby and I jumped in for one last Blizzay ride, followed by my parents.

2 miles into the ride, the Blizzay died. Completely. We rolled off of Scottsdale road into a parking lot in front of a Mexican home furnishings store. We had to roll the car back and forth to fit it into a spot.

DAMN IT!

Jimmy called the dealer.
"So, what if the Blazer doesn't run?"
Our salesman consulted with his boss.
"Deal's off!"
"OK, so I should just have it towed home, then. OK, bye."
"They'll call you back," I said. I felt it. They needed the sale.

We called AAA, thereby using up the 3rd and 4th calls allowed this year in 2 days. They'd come in an hour. It was 102 degrees outside, so naturally, coachubby and I went to Dairy Queen.

While we were walking back from Dairy Queen, the phone rang.

"OK, here's the deal," said the salesman, "If the Blazer doesn't run, it's $1000 more. If it does, same deal's on."

It was like playing Russian roulette with a blue heap of metal. Whenever the Blizzay cooled down a bit, it would start. We ran over to the Blizzay.

Rrrrrr...Rrrrrr...RRVRroooom! He started! Praise the Lord! We'd tow him to the dealer so as not to squelch his juice, then start him up, then drive off the lot in a beautiful, new(ish) Jeep!

AAA arrived in the form of a beefcakey bald guy about 30 years old with a major 'tude.

Where you towin' it?
To the Jeep dealer, I said. It's gotta run when we get there, so don't start it now!
What's wrong with it?
It's dead.
Then how's it gonna run when you get there?
We're trading it in. If it runs, we make the deal. If it doesn't, we don't. So don't start it up!
I don't know if I can do this.
Do what?
We don't tow to dealers. I'm not going to tow it if its not getting repaired.
OK, then we're towing it to the dealer to get it repaired.
No, you're not.
What do you care?

Bald AAAss rolled up his window to call it in to AAA headquarters. Without a word, he took coachubby's key, stuck it in the ignition, rolled the Blizzay onto the bed, then drove like a madman to the Jeep dealership. The day before, the Blythe AAA guy gave coachubby his car keys back. Bald AAAss was draining the Blizzay of his final life force, and coachubby hadn't thought about it.

My parents and I followed.

The Blizzay, Coachubby, and the salesman disappeared into the back lot. WHAT WAS GOING ON!? Would he start? Could the Blizzay give us one final hurrah to prove he was worth $1000 extra than he would be dead? Oh please, oh please.

Coachubby walked out of the back. We all stared at him.

Didn't start.
(Final photo with the Blizzay.)
I knew exactly why. I wanted to sell AAA man to medical research and demand $1000 for his body.

It was 7pm. In the end, we got $1200 for the Blizzay, but it wouldn't live indefinitely in my mom's front yard, which she was happy about, and we'd be rid of it for good. Even at $1000 more, the low-mileage, 1-owner leased Jeep was a fab deal. It felt strange to drive it off of the lot after 2 days straight of AAA, waiting in the heat, and dirty Blizzay issues. It was so beautiful. So shiny. So dent and stain free.

I called him Laree. (Pronounced Larry.)


We ate dinner with my parents, then loaded up Laree, stuck the bike rack on top, and headed off into the night to drive to Show Low. There was no way we were missing XTERRA now. Even after such a mentally, financially, and physically exhausting 2 days. That's the reason we started this adventure.

We had to finish it.

TO BE CONTINUED! STAY TUNED FOR THE FINAL CONCLUSION THIS AFTERNOON!

The $17,000 Triathlon--Deuces Wild Triathlon Festival

"When's Jimmy going to buy a new car?" my dad asked Thursday night.
"I don't know. When we've saved up enough when I'm done with school. Like in a year--it has to last one more year. That's it." I said.
"It's going to stop running pretty soon."
"Thanks for your faith in the Blizzay Wizzay, padre. It's gone this far, I think we can get one more year out of it."

***

There is nothing 25 miles West of Blythe, CA. It is a hot desert, with bushes so sparse, they can't be used for shade, nor to hide your bum from mooning passers by on the I-10 when you have to pee. I know. I sat out there for an hour Friday. And I really had to pee.

Coachubby had been filling his coolant up regularly lately, as it seemed to keep disappearing. Sparky, my car, had had the same problem. However Sparky was incontinent, and his mess always appeared wherever he was left alone for a little while. The Blizzay Wizzay seemed to be more of a coolant gourmande.

Had we been people, like, say, my brother or dad, who listen to their cars instead of driving them into the ground, we might've thought twice about taking the Blizzay Wizzay across the desert with such a coolant binge disorder.

So when the engine started overheating around Palm Springs, we dumped more water into the coolant tank, and kept on keeping on. Almost all the way to Blythe.

When the Blizzay died 25 miles West of Blythe, we knew we had to do something to keep him going a little farther--basic AAA only covers 7 miles of towing.

5 different cops hung out on a freeway on-ramp with us, waiting for a call from an airplane I couldn't see so they could take down some highly unsuspecting speeders. After letting the Blizzay Wizzay cool down a bit, he fired up again, and we used the on-ramp's downward momentum to try to get closer to Blythe so we could save a buck. Or $100. We certainly weren't worried about being busted for speeding. Impeding traffic? Yes.

The Blizzay finally started to clank and rolled to a stop next to a call box. It might've been just about 7 miles from Blythe.

Two chatty AAA tow truck operators came to rescue us, telling us how it was nice that we stood to the side, because some dumb stranded people stand directly behind their cars while the car is being loaded onto the pickup bed and the operators don't trust the hydraulics and the car could roll back at any time and have you ever seen the Darwin Awards? because that would be a stupid way to die and man it's freakin' hot I want a milkshake what's wrong with your car?

I realized later that God had three goals for me this past weekend. This was the first of God's Goals for Erin (GoGoFoE):

1. To get me to stop calling Blythe, CA, "the Devil's Ball Sack", by proving friendly people live there.

After an $85 diagnostic check, Shain, a skinny, grease-covered mechanic about my age, told us it was bad.
How bad?
The Blizzay needed a new engine. There was coolant in the oil. The engine block was cracked.
How much?
$3500.
How much is the Blizzay worth?
$2500.
Right... Can we rent a UHaul and haul the junker to my parents' front yard in Phoenix?
No UHauls left.
What do we do?
There are UHauls in Quartzite.














We rented a Kia Minivan--available only for 2 hours that afternoon--to drive 20 miles East to Quartzite, pick up a giant UHaul, drive it and the minivan back to Blythe, pick up a tow dolly, strap on the Blizzay (but only after paying another $25 to have Shain take apart its drive train, since it's a rear-wheel drive truck, and we didn't want to destroy the drive train...I don't know why it mattered, really), and start driving the 150 miles to Phoenix at 55mph.

The late-afternoon Kia renters passed us 10 miles into our trip.

We got to Phoenix at 7pm. We had left LA at 6am. There was no way we were driving (and in what would we drive?) another 3.5 hours to Show Low. Poof! There went 2 half-ironman entry fees, and a hotel reservation.

After filling up on mom's good cooking, we passed out hard. Just as hard as if we had raced on Friday.

There was no way we were going to miss the Xterra race, too. We needed a car and needed it now.

TO BE CONTINUED!

Should Triathlon Companies be Held to Lower Standards During the Recession?

After hearing many triathletes, particularly Xterra participants, express their frustration at the cancellation of races and changes made to race dates long after athletes had already gotten airfare, I wondered: are we allowing companies some slack due to the economy? Should we?

Xterra 29er recently posted this grievance about XTERRA racing this year:

I want to love you but you make it hard when:

1. You cut a bunch of races from the 2008 to the 2009 season
2. You list races for 2009 and then cancel them
3. You list races for 2009 and then change their dates

WTF? Just found out that XTERRA Lock 4 back in Nashville has been moved from July 12 to July 18. No big deal unless you already planned your summer, bought tickets, and had gotten psyched about going back home on a different weekend.

Eric commented on my blog that he's "seriously bummed about no Xterra races in SoCal. I'll probably do only two total races this year and not make it to USA Champs or World'd like I wantd to. :("

Getting angry at companies like Xterra for canceling races and changing dates late in the game is tricky, since Xterra franchises its events to independent race organizations. It seems like the parent company lending its name does not have much control over what happens to our favorite races when the economy goes south.

What do you think? Should we just roll with it and expect some faulty race scheduling, or should we hold companies like Xterra to the high race production standards they've set for themselves in years past?

Xterra West Cup Championships--Like Riding on the Moon

With pretty much every Xterra race convenient to Los Angeles canceled this year due to the evil economy (Temecula, Snow Valley, Castaic...hasn't been on for a few years), the rise of the Xterra West Cup Championship at Lake Las Vegas was a godsend for off-road triathlon junkies.

And, judging by the turn out, it was also a godsend for off-road triathlon junkies across the country vying for a slot to the Xterra World Championships. The turn out was phenomenal--"the Caveman" Conrad Stoltz, Melanie McQuaid, Josiah Middaugh, & Shonny Vanlandingham were there, among a ton of other rad racers.

When Mr. Xterra '07, Will Kelsay, came up to Coachubby and me after preriding the course, he exclaimed, "Oh, it's so shady, and there's tons of single track!"

I looked at the completely barren hills around us. It looked like we were on the moon.

Will is a joker.

It's anyone's guess how long this race, put on by Sunset Racing, will last, as it was held on a scraped-off development site no doubt stalled in progress by the economy. There was no natural plant life, no nothing. Just dirt, and rudimentary roads that made up the bike and run courses.

I loved it, as the lack of much single track meant there wouldn't be too many slow-swimming dudes rudely yelling at me to get out of their way as they tried to get back with the pack on the bike. There was plenty of passing room on most of the course--and the dudes got a head start. There were wave starts at this Xterra, because the man-made beach at the Loews Resort (the host hotel) was dinky, and couldn't have supported all of the racers diving in at once.

I loved the wave starts, too; the ladies' wave was small, so I was never poked--not once!--during the swim. An Xterra first. (The Temecula swim, I recall, was particularly cutthroat.)

Then, the run. Oh sorrow. Terrible sorrow.

I didn't even put my running shoes into transition, knowing I'd want to run for it if they were there, and in doing so, set back the healing of my dumbass sesamoid bone.

I came in off of the bike, walked over to the timing people, gave them my chip, then hopped on Qeee, my mountain bike, and took her for one more loop of the bike course, while everyone else ran straight up and down a mountain--twice. In the middle of the day, under relentless sun.

I probably have a warped sense of how awesome the race was due to my not having run, but I loved the whole thing. Minus the very depressing dropping out part.

How many races have you ever started knowing you weren't going to finish? I'd say it definitely made me take my time racing to enjoy everything, rather than go for it. Not a bad way to enjoy a Saturday. It's just not any way to get a medal either. Or really push myself on the bike.

Lake Las Vegas is a strange place. It's a man-made oasis in the middle of the desert. And while it's gorgeous, and opulent, it's hard not to cringe at the complete non-eco friendliness / unsustainability of it all. (This coming from a Phoenician!) While Coachubby and I lounged on a bed on the hotel patio, I got a blast of air conditioning every 10 seconds from the roofed open-area of the hotel. No walls, 80+ degrees outside, and the air conditioning was what? Cooling the patio? Not cool.

If you want to forgo the opulent hotel, there's camping at Lake Mead for $10. Coachubby and I did that. It was very romantic, and very quiet. Until ridiculous winds (think 30mph +) came in around 9pm, when we went to bed, and continued to lash at our tent all night long. Sleep never came. Visions of lifting off like in the Wizard of Oz did, though.

And somehow, sand flew in through the windows. A veritable dust storm that somehow penetrated our tent. I woke up covered in sand, and had a nice microdermabrasion session around 1am, free of charge, courtesy of Lake Mead State Park.

If this race happens again next year, DO IT! The race organizers were super friendly. As always, Xterra people are helpful, kind, and crazy--a good mix. And the setting is equal parts gorgeous and strange, lush and lunar--all a 5 hour drive from LA.

Race on, Xterra people!

PS. Coachubby got 2nd in his age group, a freakin' awesome accomplishment made even more freakin' awesome if you have seen his bike--an old hardtail Klein. His handling skills are off the charts!

Economy Hits Triathlon--Xterra's Exodus from Southern California

Coachubby is an Xterra lover.

So am I.

But he's good at it, and I'm good at getting injured at Xterra events, so he usually plans the Xterra schedule for the year, while I follow along, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bike course before each race so I don't mangle myself on race day. (Then I usually mangle myself on the run, instead!)

Therefore, you can imagine type-A, I-like-to-plan-in-advance coachubby's shock when he looked at the '09 Xterra schedule. There is not a single race within 5 hours of Los Angeles. Even farther for super SoCalers in places like San Diego.

Xterra's Andrew Marsh responded to the email from frantic Xterra fanatic coachubby, explaining a few race decisions for next year. As far as Southern California Xterra racing goes:

• Castaic was not on the Xterra schedule in 2008 and will not be in 2009.


• The Race Directors for Xterra Snow Valley are facing sponsorship/financial issues and will make a decision about the race by January 15th (according to their website.)


• Economically Temecula (formerly a National and Worlds qualifier) was too expensive to produce, and will not return in 2009.

Xterra events are produced by independent companies in the US, many of whom are feeling the effects of the poor economy. Trail access and excessive venue fees, notes Marsh, make it extremely difficult to put on events in Southern California.

So what's a Californian Xterra fanatic to do? Unfortunately, a search on Xterra's website for 2009 point series races in California turns up completely blank, but there's still a little hope.

For those willing to travel far north for a non-championship race (Northern Californians are in luck!), Xterra REAL will be held at Folsom lake on March 29th. East of San Francisco near Livermore, Xterra Del Valle will be held May 10th. It also looks like there will be a few races in the Tahoe area, though the National Championships will be held in Ogden this year.

That leaves a trip to AZ (or far, far beyond) the weekend of May 30th as your only chance to take a bite out of that craving for Xterra racing. Should you make the trek to Show Low for the widely venerated Deuces Wild Triathlon Festival, word from coachubby and several other racers is you won't be disappointed.

So there you have it. Economy be damned, Xterra will still forge ahead. Just not in Southern California for right now. (And believe me, they are just as unhappy about it as you are. If you have any suggestions for Xterra as to how they can keep Xterra from flat lining in CA, contact the Xterra guys. Seriously. They welcome your help!)

Maybe 2009 should be a practice year for SoCalers--a time to prepare to massacre the field of competitors, hopefully coming to a town near you, in 2010. Or you can make a road trip out of a non-championship Xterra event, sign up now for one of the above races, and pray gas prices stay as low as they are right now.

Good luck, and in the words of the Xterra gods, LIVE MORE!

XTERRA USA Moves to Utah--The End of an 8 Year Run in Incline Village, NV

If you're a Lake Tahoe junkie like me, the headline, "XTERRA USA Moves to Utah", part of a press release posted on Xterra's website on October 21st, might have gotten you all riled up.

Why wouldn't the race be held at Lake Tahoe? How could the national championships ever be rightfully called the national championships without a death-defying ride down the Flume trail?

I spoke with Trey Garman, VP of Team Unlimited/XTERRA for the lowdown. It seems the faltering US economy has struck Nevada.

Me: What prompted the move, after 8 years in Incline Village?

Trey: The Nevada Commission on Tourism was forced to cut their budget and as a result we lost our funding for the XTERRA USA Championship event, accompanying marketing, and one-hour television show.

Me: That totally sucks!

Trey: (didn't respond to that because it was in my head.)

Me: Will there be a race in Incline Village at all next year?

Trey: There is nothing scheduled in Incline right now. We are very grateful for the Hyatt Regency Lake Tahoe, the businesses in Incline Village, and to the State of Nevada for their support through the years. We’ve got eight years of history and heritage in Nevada, and the XTERRA USA Championship itself was born in Nevada back in 2001. Nevada holds a special place in the hearts of athletes from around the nation and world. As proof, athletes from 43 states and 14 countries raced in Incline Village this year. As the U.S. Championship was part of the XTERRA Global Tour, its impact is felt not only in the U.S., but also in the XTERRA international market that reaches into 15 countries.

Me: Will the USA race course be the same as the Mountain Championship course?

Trey: There will just be the one race, the USA Championship, up at Snowbasin. So in essence, the nationals replaces the Mountain Championship, however, there will still be another regional in the mountain area (site TBA), but not at Snowbasin.

So there you have it. Nevada has no moolah right now, but XTERRA will proudly continue the USA nationals race at Odgden, Utah's Snowbasin resort. For more information, read the press release here.

No wonder we haven't been seeing "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" TV commercials lately...

Xterra World Championships--Halloween Party Pictures

Some pictures from the famed Halloween party for your enjoyment! (Note: the winners, Blades of Glory, got 2 round trip tickets to HI from CA. If only I had brought a costume...wearing a pink scrunchie and calling myself a Spice Girl didn't get me much except some laughter from an Asian boy who then decided his costume of a t-shirt and shorts made him a Spice Boy.)



Conrad Stoltz and lady friend.



Jimmy Archer rocks out.



The Winners! Blades of Glory.



Mr. Xterra, Will Kelsay, and Mr. Xterra, Jamie Whitmore



Dirty Santa aka. Dave "The Big Kahuna" Nicholas



Rocky Horror performers.

Happy Almost Thanksgiving!

XTERRA WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS—THE RACE!

(The "Beast")

I usually don’t get nervous before a race. Because, really, what’s there to be nervous about? I’m doing it for fun. I’m not there to win half of my yearly income (in fact, I lost it getting there…OK not half! Close though.) The best I can do is go as fast and as hard as I can, which is exactly what I’m going do, so what’s there to be nervous about? I’m not even thinking about winning because this is the World Championships and my 4th Xterra race ever and I don’t own my own mountain bike. It’s really all for fun. Nothing to be nervous about, right?

What about loosing all of my skin on lava rock!? Blowing a tire on my rental bike—the tires look like they’ve been glued on with years of dirt and grime. I’ll never be able to get them off the rims! (See above photo...although I did wash it...) All right. New focus. New goals:

1. To return with the same amount of skin as I leave T1 with.

2. Go as hard as I can except for in spots where my superhuman awesome strength would run me right off the trail and blow goal 1.

3. Run fast.

4. This should have been a goal before arriving: learn how to fix a stupid flat-FAST!

OK I’m not nervous anymore. My skin-protecting goal may make me a ginormous wuss on the mountain bike, but I’ll be thanking myself when I don’t look like a patchwork person in my wedding photos.

Xterra races start at a perfectly practical 9am. The World Championships was no different. I awoke calmly at 6:30am, slathered myself in sunscreen, made my “skinny Elvis” breakfast and jumped in the minivan with Coachancé for the bazillionth ride down the 5 mile stretch of windy road that passes all of the gorgeous resorts in Makena. Our 7:15 arrival time put us far ahead of most competitors, and I got a killer spot on the end of the rack.

(Note to self: arriving at 7:15am to an Xterra race qualifies you as somewhat of an anal retentive geek, as most of the pros and the people who would soon be bombing by me on the bike got there at a cool 8:40am. It’s true. I watched Jimmy Archer and Will Kelsay waltz in like they just happened to be in the area with their mountain bikes and thought they’d maybe get in a race before going to chill on the beach with their buds.)

After body marking, (Body Marker: Are you wearing sunscreen? Me: No. Me In My Head: She must think I have really oily skin…oh well.) Coachancé went off to warm up. I figured I’d be getting plenty warm on this sunny, humid (well, to someone from the West coast), day with a high of about 85. It would be perfect. So I stretched and sat under a tree until spotting Coachancé and deciding I should try swimming with my top tucked into my shorts since that was the plan and I had never done it before. This was not a wetsuit legal race because the water around Maui was perfectly calibrated by the island Gods to lure people into it in the least amount of clothing possible. (i.e. like 78 degrees)

Xterra World Championships--Island Observations

In a convenient twist of fate, my uncle works for Pleasant Holidays, a travel company specializing in Hawaiian vacations. He hooked us up with a sweet hotel room about 5 miles down the road from the race in Kihei. On the short drive across the island, we managed to locate a Safeway, a Cold Stone (coachancé’s lifeline) and a Subway. Not to mention several Starbucks and a Denny’s. For some reason, even though Hawaii is an American state, I hadn’t considered it’d be overrun by mega businesses like the mainland. Somehow the Borders placard and the Outback Steakhouse neon sign looked out of place against the backdrop of a gorgeous clear blue ocean, lush vegetation, and an ominous volcano. No worries, though. It’s easy to get lost in one of the gorgeous mega resorts along the coast and realize that despite the many people holding Starbucks cups, you’re truly in a mystical and exotic locale.

We walked along the coast to stumble upon a very nice restaurant and loaded up on sushi and seafood and rice. Little did we know that would be the first of many Mahi Mahi meals to come. No complaints here!

Xterra World Championships--The Arrival

I don’t know what I expected when I boarded the plane to Maui with my coachancé on Friday to get to the Xterra World Championships. To be honest, I really wasn’t thinking much about the race—my thoughts were more on the “I want to go snorkeling!”, vacationey side of things. I was just getting over the worst saddle sore in the history of female kind, and the fever and sickness that came with the toxic antibiotic I had to down for a week. If anything, I was praying my crotch was up for the bike ride and didn’t give the rest of me much thought.

We left LA at a very reasonable 9am and touched down in Maui around 11am. I love getting time back. The warm breeze that swept through the open airport made me instantly happy (I love hot weather!) as did the lei the Pleasant Holidays people gave us on our way to baggage claim. I only checked my liquid stuff (sunscreen…chamois butt’r) and kept my helmet and all other tri-related stuff with me on the plane. I could make due wearing the same thing for 4 days, but could not race without my lucky flower to mark my transition area or mountain bike shoes.

Coachancé upgraded the car to a minivan so we could shove the bikes we were going to rent in the back without much effort. Turns out everyone else rented a minivan, too. I’ve never seen so many Dodge minivans in my life as there were driving around Maui.

First, we picked up coachancé’s rental bike. A full-suspension Kona something. I laughed at the granny seat they put on it. “Last full-suspension on the island, I’ll bet!” said the owner. I didn’t tell him we were about to drive to Haiku to get mine.

Renting a bike didn’t bother me one bit, as:

1. It cost just as much to fly with a bike and

2. I don’t own a mountain bike anyway! I’d have been borrowing somebody’s foreign-to-me bike no matter what.

The bike emerged from the back of the shop: a Gary Fischer. It must’ve weighed 35 lbs. It had a bald spot on the back tire, and looked like it had never ever been washed. It was a beast. Also adorned with a cushy seat, this bike looked like it had been thrown down the mountain, or seen some gnarly crashes. This bike had seen so much more of the island’s trails than I ever would in one weekend. It would show me how it’s done. The Beast and I clicked.

Xterra USA Nationals Redux

The promise of the beautiful lake Tahoe scenery made the 2 hours in LA traffic, during which my fiancé and I drove all of maybe 15 miles, bearable. The plan was to leave around 2pm on Friday to make it up to Lake Tahoe and get a good night’s sleep before basking in the gorgeous mountain sunshine during an easy pre-ride of the bike course.

Coachancé decided we should take the 395 instead of the 5 in order to exchange the enduring smell of cow and fertilizer for a more scenic route. By the time we got to the scenic route, it was dark.

No matter! We were going to Lake Tahoe, baby! To race at Nationals! Awesome!

Once we turned to take the 50 toward Lake Tahoe, we thought we’d be on the home stretch. Too bad the home stretch decided to become engulfed in a white-out blizzard. WTF! (I believe cussing is allowed only in situations related to when the weather is not sunny and warm. That’s what happens when you grow up in Phoenix. And this was not sunny and warm.) WTF! I’m supposed to swim in a lake—and it’s snowing! OK, I’m hardcore. I can do this. Let’s sleep first.

I truly feel for all of the people who did the Xterra Nevada race. They went to sleep with snow flurries in their heads and woke up with it all over the ground before they had to go break the ice to begin their race.

Coachancé and I bundled up all nice and cozy to preride the course—right when other people were bombing down it. I believe he might have forgotten that the course is like a lollipop, and the part we’d share with Saturday’s racers included us riding straight up for 3 miles, and them bombing down at us. It was quite nice to finally begin down the Flume Trail—probably the coolest mountain biking trail in the world. Just sayin’. Non-technical single track with a mountain’s jagged edge on one side and a cliff overlooking all of Lake Tahoe to the right. Pre-riding allowed me to stop and enjoy the scenery—because you know, you’ll ride the way you look and if you’re going to try to take it all in on race day, a helicopter is going to be removing you from the mountain.

Xterra Temecula—Get Ready to Sweat

From the point of view of an Xterra newbie:

The most brutal swim

Known to mankind

Kicked in the chin

And in the eye

Muddy transition

But that’s just fine

The dirtier the better

And I’m toward the front of the line

Off on my borrowed steed

Forgot to grab my gu’s

After 2 hours

I begin to loose my juice

Holy crap! A girl flies by

With my age on her thigh

(OK calf, but that doesn’t rhyme)

Must stay with her or else

I’ll be left in the dirt by myself

Up! Up! Up! We go!

Man do we run slow

I’m starting to break away

I really want to win today

But there’s a chubby dude in my way

I do not gracefully go around him

And the sight of my ankle twisting astounds him

Must keep running!

I’m almost there!

Oh! I see the finish line!

And it looks most divine.

Water! Food! Must stuff my face

Xterra was an awesome race!

Happy racing!