Last weekend, I had the good fortune to attend a training camp up in Whistler. Put on by
Endurance Sports Canada and led by my Coach, it was 4 days of hard work, learning, and bears. It was a great confidence building immersion in the beautiful
IMC course and all its challenges.
Camp kicked off with a short 1 pm
swim at Alta Lake. On the drive up, as we passed through Squamish, I observed with some trepidation: it’s really windy. 45 minutes later, I was standing at Rainbow Park watching as the lake pitched and rolled, whitecaps on the surface. Great. It reminded me of my training camp weekend in Penticton last year, when I had that awful choppy swim in Okanagan Lake. My first swim in that lake. The second was just as bad and prompted a defeated text to my Coach: I can’t swim in this lake… and I spent the next month worrying about the swim cut-off. So this year, standing at Alta Lake, watching the wind stir it up, listening to Coach Shaun talk about the possibility of similar conditions on race day, I felt my stomach sink and wished I hadn’t already registered. I will always worry about the swim cut-off on race day. Add waves. Add worry. But I squeezed into my wetsuit and reluctantly waded in for a 30-40 minute swim along the buoy line.
Swimming in choppy water always feels like a cross between swimming and jumping on the bed. It could almost be fun. Except that it’s not. I swam out for 20 minutes, covering a mere 675m, taking a few waves to the face, one big drink of lake water, and thinking a few times as my legs were tossed up behind me that this must look pretty comical from the shore. After 20 minutes, I turned to swim back in… 15 minutes for the return trip. The wind that had made the swim out such an effort was a gift on the way back. Note to self, on an out & back, the wind gives back.
Yes, the wind giveth and the wind taketh away. After the swim, we checked in at Athlete’s Village, and then it was time for the next bit of work:
a ride from the Athlete’s Village, up Callaghan, and back. I love that Callaghan climb and this was my fastest ascent… by 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Thank you tailwind. Coming down? If I haven’t mentioned it before, I’m a chicken-shit descender. It’s something I’ve been working on but still, I would rather climb than descend. So it was testimony to just how crazy that wind was that after I rounded the corner coming down from the Olympic Park, I barely touched my brakes until I was at the stop sign at the bottom. Crazy wind. And things were about to get crazier.
Friday’s camp agenda was
a ride from Athlete’s Village out to Pemberton, the out & back on the flats, and then make your way back, followed by a 30 minute brick run, and later, an easy recovery swim. We left in staggered intervals, based largely on ride speed, and I headed out first. The day looked a little unsettled and we knew we might get some rain. It started to rain when I hit Pemberton, and rained off and on as I battled my way through the flats. Yes, battled. The rain was joined by wind, and lots of it. One of those punishing relentless winds that makes you want to get off and stand by your bike and cry for a little while. And just so you don’t settle in to that grind and push forward on autopilot, you’d occasionally get a big powerful gust that threatened to blow you sideways across the road. I was reminded of the wind the previous day and the gift it gives on an out & back, so I pushed on, all thoughts on the tailwind I was going to enjoy on the way back. And it’s always better to have a tailwind on the way BACK. Tree branches were cracking overhead, debris was all over the road, and the rain picked up… I pushed on. Made it to the end of the road, unclipped, and took a picture and then looked over my shoulder as I prepared to turn my bike around and what do I see? Coach Shaun screaming up in the SAG van. He threw it into park, got out and said “I need you to get in the van RIGHT NOW”. I sensed this wasn’t just about waiting out better weather as a group in a coffee shop so I didn’t argue. And as he crammed my bike into the back of the van, he filled me in: the wind has brought down power lines, which started a fire, we need to get on the other side of this before they close the road.
Well, so much for my tailwind. As we drove back to town, Shaun stopped other riders and told them to turn around, ride back, and stay together. He dropped me with Diane at the gas station (I really hoped she’d be at the top of all the climbs when we found her!) and after a quick pit stop, and a Red Bull for good measure, we started the climb back to Whistler. Climbing up that first hill out of Pemberton, it was raining hard, my teeth were chattering I was so cold, and I called ahead to Diane: I’m not swimming tonight. And I don’t think I’m running either! And remember when I said I was a chicken-shit descender? Well, you can imagine how I feel descending the corkscrew. Yeah, I don’t like climbing that steep bit of twisty, gritty nonsense and I like riding down it even less. Add rain? Hell.
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| The Whistler Road Tan. |
The ride back was full of the usual Highway 99 eventfulness: bears lumbering into the road ahead of you, big trucks passing so close that you’re sure that they have no idea you’re there or that they’re actually trying to take you out. Add to that rain off and on, sometimes so hard you couldn’t see, and foamy wet pools of water on the shoulder. Good times indeed. Seriously, I was glad for the experience. That night when we debriefed someone said that if it were like that on race day, they wouldn’t make the cut-off and I replied with absolute certainty: I would. So it was confidence building and informative: I was so soaking wet by the time I arrived back at Athlete’s Village that I needed a complete change of clothes before heading out on the run. Note to self: even though planning to race the whole event in tri kit, put a dry run outfit in T2 in case conditions are like this. Running a marathon in soaking wet kit isn’t worth the 10 minutes or so saved in transition. Of course the sun came out when we concluded our ride… all that tough talk about not
running or
swimming? I did both.
Saturday was
the full course ride (minus T1 to 99), and starting from Athlete’s Village followed by a short brick run. We started early (6:45 for my group) so it was chilly at the start, but warmed up quickly and staying at a comfortable temperature for the duration of the ride, with none of the wind from the days before. The ride itself was pretty uneventful but I was tired and as I finished the flats, I stopped at SAG to stretch, take off some layers, restock my fuel, and get myself sorted. I had a dry contact lens that wasn’t sitting right so I plucked it out and threw it on the ground. Hey, I raced Challenge with one contact lens, I could finish this ride with one! The downside was that everything I saw ahead of me on first glance appeared to be a bear… everything that is, except the pride of lions. Pretty sure that was just something lion-coloured but you know, keep your eyes open! I arrived back at Athlete’s Village, feeling OK, ready to head out on that run, so that I could be finished and then EAT. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a key to my unit and waited, legs up the wall, for about 45 minutes before someone with a key returned… so a long T2 before heading out on the run. By then, I had lost interest in running, and had to reframe to get out there… No, I’m not heading out for a 30 minute run. I’m going to run for 15 minutes. Then I’ll turn and run back. But
the run felt great, and I felt strong so I extended to 40 minutes, spending a bit of time on a great trail along the river near Athlete’s Village.
Every time I do this ride, I am struck by how beautiful it is, and how challenging. I really like this ride, but there is no getting around it: it’s tough. I can’t imagine how it must be on race day for athletes who have not had a chance to ride it before.
Sunday was
a run, on-course… sort of. Somewhat directionally challenged or map impaired… call it what you will. Three of us ran together for 90 minutes, on sections of the course, with a few detours thrown in. Whatever. We ran and then we celebrated with a Starbucks finish.
And that was camp. Four days of hard work, learning, and confidence building. I’m not sure if I’ll be up again to ride before race day… maybe, maybe not. If not, I’ll see you race week Whistler!
