With there new strategy and change in equipment the two cousins headed to the Chicago Muddy Buddy two days before the race. On the Friday before the race they met up at Rookie’s Bar and Grill to partake of the “pre-carb loading, carb loading” routine which is vital to a good race performance. The routine consists of drinking at least three beers at the local pub two days before the race.
The day before the race was a very wet one. Rain showers pelted the area for most of the day. Don and Scott were concerned that all the rain would affect the race course but they had no idea how right they were. They were blissfully unaware of what awaited them as they gorged on spaghetti and meatballs the night before the race.
Finally the morning of the race arrived. The two buddies awoke early ate a light meal and headed out for their 7:00 race start. They arrived to the starting line just in time to watch the first wave bikers head down the road. It was another 20 minutes before Scott started his wave.
At the sound of the whistle, Scott began racing down the road. He knew from last year that the first leg of the race was pretty flat so setting his gear low he quickly picked up speed and began passing other racers. Down the road he sped, over the bridge he picked up more speed and by the time he turned off the paved road he was traveling at a good speed. His forward progress was instantly thwarted however, for the dirt road that led to the first obstacle had been mutated by the rain the day before. Instead of a packed dirt road Scott was confronted with a large puddle of mud, two inches deep. Luckily Scott had seen what was coming and he was able to skirt around the edge of the mud. His progress had been slowed greatly but he was able to pick up speed once again and arrived at the first obstacle, the climbing wall, fairly quickly.
Shortly after the bikers raced out of site, Don and the other runners started chasing after them. Don had done a decent amount of running in the weeks before the race and he was confident in his ability but he also knew that this was a race of endurance not one of speed. So as the other runners in wave took off in a sprint, Don reminded himself of the old fable of the tortoise and the hare, and slowed his pace to a comfortable trot. He figured that if he sandbagged the first leg of the race he would have reserve energy at the end. So it was at a leisurely pace that he jogged down the road, over the bridge, around the large mess of mud that was once a road, and to the climbing wall.
Feeling good after the first leg of the race, Scott began running the second leg. It started out as a healthy jog, but the entire race course had become a mess of grass and mud and as Scott stepped in pile after pile of the muck his shoes began getting heavier and heavier. Scott was also paying the penalty of over confidence. After running the Michigan Muddy Buddy, Scott had assumed that he had trained well enough for the running portion of this race, and ran very little before the Chicago race. Now, that overconfidence was plaguing him as his breath became more labored and his heart started beating faster. Eventually Scott made it to the second obstacle, the balance beams, but he was breathing a little harder than he had hoped. However it seemed that he had time to catch his breath for his buddy had not yet arrived to the obstacle, so Scott had no bike to continue with.
Don had just finished the climbing the wall and hopped on the well decorated bike when he was confronted with an uphill climb. Struggling with the climb, Don found himself thinking that it may have been a bad idea to do no training on the bike. He had assumed that he would be able to push through the biking legs and rely on his running ability. It seems that over confidence was to be the bane of Team Tremalien. Muscling up the hill and struggling through the extremely muddy path, Don could see the second obstacle in the distance, yet he could not remember passing Scott on the path. He had just begun wondering if he had passed his buddy without seeing him when he heard a shout from the balance beams. “Go D-Man!” Scott was waiting for the bike at the obstacle. With a nod of embarrassment Don dismounted the bike and handed it to Scott.
When Scott finally got the team bike he knew that he did not have to push too hard this next leg for Don had given him some breathing room. So off he pedaled to complete the third leg of the race. He was enjoying his nice leisure pace when the course started getting a little hilly, forcing him to once again take the race seriously. Working the gears with fingers as deft as a pinball wizard, Scott was zipping up and down the hills passing by racers as if they were standing still. Brimming with confidence once again Scott raced around the bend then almost crapped himself. Fifty yards in front of him was hill so steep he couldn’t see the top. It was as if they had flown in Mount Kilimanjaro just for this race. Knowing that he was a stronger biker than last year, Scott switched to a high gear and started his ascent, dodging runners and bikers that had resorted to walking their bikes up the hill. Upward and onward Scott climbed until he was sure that his heart was going to explode from his chest when his back tire hit a patch of mud and spun out, stopping Scott’s climb. Furious, Scott hopped from the bike and walked it up the rest of hill. At the peak he mounted the bike again and sped onto the third obstacle, a crawl under a cargo net.
As Don hopped down from the balance beams he knew that he had to pick up the pace a bit if he was going to keep from letting his buddy down. So his pace was a bit quicker as he ran the third leg of the race. Feeling good from his easy first leg, he had the energy to pass several other runners as he raced along the muddy trails. He was traveling a good clip when he rounded the bend and saw a huge mountain before him. As Don ascended the seemingly endless climb, he found himself wondering how Scott did biking this behemoth. Eventually the uphill climb ended and Don cruised down the other side and raced to the obstacle. The pain in his lungs reassured him that he did not hold anything back this leg of the race.
Scott had just finished the third obstacle and began his second running leg and found that his battle with the mountain had taken its toll on his legs. This running was proving to be a bit more difficult than he had anticipated. His strength was waning, as each step took more from him, but a call from behind urged him forward. “Go T-Storm!” hollered Don as he raced by. The call out from his buddy invigorated Scott and he kept his pace as consistent as he could as he continued on to the fourth obstacle the inflatable slide. Imagine his surprise when he saw a line up behind the obstacle reminiscent of one you’d see at Cedar Point. Patience has never been Scott’s strong suit so you can imagine the frustration building up in him as he waited for his turn to climb the stupid inflatable slide.
After crawling under the cargo net Don quickly found his bike and headed out for his second biking leg. This leg was a little more level and Don found that he was able to make up some good time as he maneuvered through the mud tracks and other racers. He even passed his buddy who seemed to be struggling slightly on his run. After only dismounting his bike to carry it through the small lake that had overflowed from the rains, he arrived at the inflatable slides.
With the slide behind him, Scott found the team bike and took off for the final leg of the race. The frustration of the time lost on the slide fueled him as he raced through the mud filled course. With only one hill to traverse Scott had made good time and at its crest he was able to see his buddy in the distance. As Scott closed the distance between Don and himself he slowed the bike down. Figuring that it served no purpose to pass his teammate, Scott just trailed Don, hoping that his cousin would run harder if he thought he had a chance of beating Scott to the finish line. It was at this time when a group of women who had just begun the race decided to try and skirt the large pile of mud and crossed into Scott’s lane forcing him to slam on his brakes. Of course he was in the middle of a major pile of mud and hitting the brakes caused the bike to skid from under him and he came crashing to the ground, covering the right half of his body in mud. Voicing his frustration in a few choice words, Scott righted his bike which was also covered in mud and set off to find Don again.
Don was running the last leg of the race and feeling pretty good. He was running well and breathing hard but he knew he had enough energy to finish the race. Perhaps sand bagging the first leg was a good idea after all. Clearing the trees and the final hill, he ran down the muddy dirt road. He had just passed the miniature mud pit when he thought he heard someone spewing a few curse words, tempted to look back he just kept his pace strong and continued running. Scott had not passed him yet and he was beginning to think he may have a chance to beat his buddy to the mud pit.
Scraping what mud he could from his handle bars and pedals, Scott quickly caught up to Don again. Now pissed off that he was already covered in mud, he shifted to a low gear and raced passed every racer he could. Passing his buddy he shouted “Go D-Man!”
Don had made it to the bridge and had the finish line in sight when Scott flew by hollering encouragement. Did he hear a hint of frustration in Scott’s voice? And why was Scott’s right side covered in mud?
Scott quickly made his way to the bike drop off and waited for his buddy to finish his run. He did not have to wait too long before he saw the Team Tremalien shirt heading his way. Meeting up with his buddy, the two of them dropped to their knees and crawled through the large pool of mud, eventually crossing the finish line.
As for their two goals:
1) Beat their time from last year:
a. Last Years Time: 1:00:20
b. This Years Time: 1:01:37
2) Place better in their age group
a. Last Year: 56th place
b. This Year: 52nd place
It looks like they both need to train a little harder next year.
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