The theme of this trip was birds. Lots of flapping of wings, caw-caws for two days, and the spirit of the American eagle mascot. The call of the eagle was supposed to be our code "word" to start our kick during the race, it definitely sounded less like the cry of the eagle and more of a dying seagull. Donnie heard it during the race, I didn't, and I'm saying that's why he beat me. That's my story anyway. It all started when someone that will remain nameless said they'd be at 1mi to go caw-cawing for some strange reason that it was time to make our move. This continued on the rest of the day and into the night with Alli and Cally acting like birds and Donnie going out of his gourd. See photos, I intentionally left some out.
This, my friends, is how a team bonds. I wasn't that excited to go on this trip initially, I'll admit that. I didn't know anyone other than Alli really and the hard truth that is starting to become very evident when I travel with other runners these days is that I am indeed getting really old. Prior to a race I don't talk much to begin with and this makes it a bit harder to get to know people. You also haven't gone through the “fire” together yet. If you've ever been part of a team you'll know what I mean. Hard things bring people together in ways only hard things can. That's why I like being a part of teams. It binds you into life long churro eating, beer drinking, bird dancing, swim-at-midnight-in-your-underwear kind of friends.
I can't say I expected much out of a trip to Venezuela either. I was hoping we'd get to see some stuff or do something you could only do in Venezuela but with the security such that it is, we were holed up in a tight compound with no where to go. Hey, don't worry is not as bad as it sounds. We had a restaurant, a tiny store, a pool, sunshine and, of course, the beach. It was an upscale resort. So, not that bad, it just could have been anywhere. But of course we weren't there for the beach, we were there to kick some Western Hemisphere butt.
It was dry, I mean DRY. What El Niño does for the west coast of the US, it has the opposite effect on this part of the world. Humidity is high but they had no rain since November in a normally jungly type of environment. The course we were running in was a dried up golf course that was actually constructed into a good cross course, complete with chicanes, a steep little run up, loose footing and a gnarly sand trap. Joe actually said that the Bend Nats course couldn't have prepared him any better for this race. I took that as a compliment.
I generally feel like I run well in the heat and so was pretty excited to see how things played out. We were all approaching this as a conservative effort for the first few laps due to the heat. I think we did, but Peru took it out what I thought was a bit more aggressive than we'd agreed on. Perhaps they didn’t get the memo. Next time I'm going to have to discuss the plan with them too. We all packed up for a few laps hanging on the back of the lead pack of Peru, a couple Venezuelans, and a couple others. I had a bit of trouble early on during lap 2-3 of sticking with that group but eventually found my stride as others started to wither in the heat and I started moving up. Lap 4 I passed the team of Peruvians as well as a few others to put myself in 5th. I think I caught back up to Joe to move into 3rd as we went into lap 5 who was running well. By that point Donnie was well out front and a Brazilian between us. I tried to reel him in over the last 2k but ran out of room. All in all I thought I raced well as did our team to come out with the team win on a dirty sweat encrusted kind of day.
Apparently, I found out later, that among the spectators I was dubbed “El Peluca” on the day. I had to look it up too. It means “The Wig”. Yeah, not sure what that referred to?
Later that night the Americans wandered their way around the compound trying to find an elusive dance party that was said to be in the “boathouse”. It turned out to be a ruse that I’m sure others were snickering about but we had the last laugh as we danced with the Venezuelan team (they were laughing with us, not at us, right?) and a midnight swim. We got a friendly boot out of the pool by security who then proceeded to hang around, call in his other security guard buddies, and then watch as the gringos danced foolishly by the pool. I’m convinced that they definitely had their most entertaining night of the year.
I came home having a few good new friends and a trip well worth the travel all the way to the Southern Hemi, a good bottle of Venezuelan rum, and a Pan Am XC Bronze medal around my neck. Not a bad trip all in all.
The most amazing thing about Venezuela that I would have put good money against, they run a tight ship as far as time schedules are concerned. Bus pickups were early or right in time, meals on time, and races on time. I was astounded. The Swiss have a run for their money.
I continue to have good results with the red beets prior to racing short distances. Flora’s Red Beet Crystals are pretty awesome, despite the worried look on my face before I realize why the toilet bowl is all red in the morning. TMI?
Thanks to all the rad people helping me get here. Thanks to the coaches, massage therapists, and body guard on the trip keeping us from getting abducted and doing a great job getting us to the start line without having to worry about anything else. Thanks Matt, Dave, Trina, Lloyd, Lori, and Kathy.
Salomon Running
Swiftwick Socks
GU Energy Labs
Flora Health
Footzone
Recharge Sport
Rebound PT
And USATF
