Down to the wire

We drove up to Anchorage today for the Susitna 100 mandatory pre-race meeting. Despite no real weight planning, my required gear barely made the minimum. The scale fluctuated back and forth between 14.9 and 15.1 pounds, before finally resting on 15.1. The girl let me go despite the fact that I had closer to 5,000 calories (I had forgotten that I had Geoff's race food in with my required calories.) Keep in mind, the 15 pounds doesn't include extra clothing, water or any food that I plan to eat along the trail. Still, I'm pretty stoked I came in that light.

I didn't learn too much at the meeting that I didn't already know. The race officials traveled the trail on Sunday to set up markers, and supposedly rain dumped down the entire time. There's still a threat of rain on Saturday, but if what some of the checkpoint volunteers have been saying about recent nighttime temps is true, the trail could be deliciously solid. Bad for the skiers - but good for me, if it stays cold (if not, bad for everyone.)

Right now I'm feeling a surge of optimism. Watching my gear pass the test, listening to race officials describe the trail, looking at their slides and comparing the images to my memories of the portion of the trail I've traveled - all this has worked my spirits up and right now I feel more excitement and less anxiety. My comfort level was also boosted by their description of the sheer number of markers they put up and the volunteers' heavy patrolling of the race course - basically nullifying my chances of getting hopelessly lost out there (even beyond cold, fatigue and injury, this has actually been my biggest fear all along.)

Now I guess all I can do is go out and Git'R'Done, as my friend Jessica suggested. (Jess actually worded it "As we like to say in Canada, just gid'er'done." That's pretty much the funniest thing I've ever heard. ) But to everyone who has supported me along the way, and who has been sending me good energy this week, I just wanted to say thank you. It means more to me than you know. That's the kind of energy that really makes or breaks life's hardest battles, and I just want you guys to know I'm feelin' the love. Now, it's just about time to go out and represent.

T minus one day, 10 hours, seven minutes and counting.

Gained some weight

Date: Feb. 14
Mileage: 13.4
February mileage: 238.8
Temperature on departure: 37

Yup. It took two and a half months, but I've finally collected and compiled the gear I need for the Susitna race. Today I loaded most of it on my bike (a bit haphazard, but daylight was a-fadin') and went out for a short ride. Including water and other gear I plan to hoist in my Camelbak H.A.W.G., the total addition is about 20-25 pounds. And you know what? I got better traction today.

I also whipped down the hills. And climbs? Well, I'm a slow climber anyway. I probably should have added the weight to my workouts before now, but I don't anticipate the gear making or breaking me. At this point, any semblance of good trail and weather conditions would have me so stoked I could probably set out on a loaded touring bike and be fine. Well, maybe not fine. But if I could just finish the race with a smile on my face, I'll chalk it up as "probably the best one I've ever done." (I know - I have to stop with the Napoleanisms.)

Oh yeah. I nearly forgot that today is the V-day-that-must-not-be-named. Not that I'm one of those people that marches for Single Awareness Day. In fact, Feb. 14 is tied to several of my more memorable anniversaries. Today I realized (because this is the kind of stuff I think about when I'm riding my bike) that it's been 10 years since my first kiss (not exactly the first, but the first one that meant anything to me, so I quickly disregarded the rest.) It was a classic moment of teenage angst: Valentine's date ... sitting shotgun in some beat-up old Buick ... idling loudly ... eyes locked on the windshield ... streams of melted snowflakes slithering down the glass ... sinking into the congested silence ... paralyzed and unable to look this boy in the eyes because I knew, just knew, it was coming.

But what really stands out about the memory is the Red Hot Chili Peppers playing softly through crackling speakers. I ran out to Tom Tom's Music the next day to purchase the "Soul to Squeeze" single for prosterity. And now, here I am, 10 years into a strange future, singing to myself as I pedal across the snow.

"Where I go I just don't know
I got to, got to, gotta take it slow
When I find my peace of mind
I'm gonna give you some of my good time."

T minus three days, 12 hours, 55 minutes and counting.

Gloom 'n doom

With eagle feeding in full swing out on the Spit, there's an eerily Hitchcockian feel out there - birds of prey peppered across the gray landscape, waiting out the silence with ominous glares. As for me, I've been feeling a little bit under the weather, in the more literal sense - as in oppressed by the weather. The local news is predicting lots of doom and gloom surrounding this week, which includes the Susitna 100. The Iron Dog snowmachine racers are tearing up the trails with as much force as they can muster in the soft snow. Several Yukon Quest dog mushers had to be airlifted off the trail after a storm (they're in a different part of the state, to be fair.) But still, weather.com calls for the delightful-sounding "wintry mix/wind" for Wasilla on Saturday, complete with a 35-degree high. I feel sad. I blame global warming.

There are some encouraging reports at the MTB Alaska forum. Although one rider mentioned renaming the race "Ididaswim," another reported riding out to the Susitna River earlier today on hard-packed trails with a light dusting of snow. Mmmmm. If it could only stay cold enough to remain that way.

But with Saturday fast approaching, I'm going to have to decide beforehand how far I'm willing to "swim" without quitting. I've decided that as long as I feel healthy and am not suffering beyond reason, I should have no reason to quit the race before the official cut-off time (48 hours. That's right.) I have the option of sleeping along the way. I'll have enough food to stuff a luau pig. And if there's one athletic talent that I have, it's plugging along - even when the going is insufferably slow. How long will it take me to swim 100 miles? I don't know. But I'm fairly certain I could walk 100 miles given 48 hours to do so. Not that I'm about to enter this race in the foot division.

Still, good reports are coming in. (Although I can't get the image out of my head of that random extra in "Cannibal, The Musical," walking past the miners chanting "Doomed. You're all doomed. Doomed. Dooooomed.") However, I shouldn't put my faith, good or bad, in the weather guessers. At least the U.S. snowboarders are tearing things up in the Olympic Winter Games. Until the IOC decides to install ice biking as an official winter sport, the knuckle draggers will always hold the softest spot in my heart. T minus four days, nine hours, 47 minutes and counting.