We headed into the woods and started climbing, and the pace still felt fast - more like 10k or 15k pace than 30k pace. Luckily, Robyn was working hard, too, and I had the feeling one of us would crack. I hoped it wouldn't be me. We made contact with Rob Bradlee's group as we headed uphill, and it was nice to have a friendly pack of masters to race with. Down the wave, what a great trail! It took some guts to stay in the tracks, but you had the trust them, they were deep and solid and would sling your skis around the corners with maximum speed. I avoided getting air over the bump, and fully enjoyed the ride down that hill. wheeee!
Back into the flats, and I put in a bit of a surge to stay with Rob's pack, who were all pulling away. I wasn't a huge fan of this part of the course, since the corners were all tracked, but too tight for your skis to want to stay in the tracks. Not so much fun. In my efforts to keep up with Rob, Robyn dropped back a bit, and I headed into the second lap with a bit of a gap. I figured it was worth the effort to maintain this gap, so put forth a good effort up the climb, and looking back near the top of the hill in the fields, I didn't see her anymore. Go time! I figured if I kept pace with the masters ahead of me, I wouldn't drop back too much, and hopefully no ladies would catch up to me. I was starting to feel better, and truly enjoying the perfect snow conditions, just thinking about how much fun it was to classic ski in conditions like this on a gorgeous day. Love it!
Third lap I started to tire a bit - on the first uphill into the woods, I began herringboning, and immediately planted my pole between my legs, nearly snapping it as I felt down. D'oh! Rob's group got a gap then, and it took a bit of mental oomph to get going back to race effort after the fall. I was very glad to be done with the climbing when I reached the top of those damn hills, and now that we were lapping people, there was a fair bit of dodge-the-tourer going on. I think I can safely say that I didn't cause anyone to fall, and I gave everyone I passed an encouraging cheer. Onto the flats, and a Bethel guy, Ian, caught up to me. Despite some exhausted arms (what do you mean your arms get tired in double poling marathons if you don't train double pole?), I did my best to hang with him, mostly out of fear that someone else of the female persuasion would catch up if I dropped back. We came screaming down the Yodel, and double poled along those final flats, but I couldn't close the gap, and he beat me. It was good enough, though, and I won the women's race! Sweet!
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