This is a 'good' bonk story. Not 'good' in that the STORY is particularly
good, but in that the bonk itself was in a good situation.
It was the 50k at National Championships in 2001, and it was my first year
as a senior. It was also my first ever 50k race. Nationals that year were in
Val Cartier, QC. The weather was every classic skier's worst nightmare:
around 0, slushy/wet track, and then soon after the start of the race it
started to snow heavily, wet snow but dry enough to clump on everyone's
klister or very-warm wax job.
Fortunately, I had the best wax techs that particular day. John Langstone
and Pavol Skvaridlo did a terrific job on my skis, and as everyone clumped
up (and many dropped out of frustration), my skis were great on grip and
adequate on glide.
It was a mass start race, and for some reason I was able to pace myself well
right from the start. It was one of the rare races when I've felt like I
have control of my energy levels to such an extent that I was able to ration
my energy use, and monitor the amount of exertion. For some reason, and to
this day I don't know how, I timed my running-out of energy perfectly. The
feeds, I should say, were very helpful in delaying the bonking effect, but I
knew I was in some trouble when I could feel the energy from the glucose in
the feed almost immediately, and the race became a series of almost-bonk
sessions between feed intervals.
I full-on hit the wall at 49k. I had passed Timo of x-c.com at about 42k,
and he had hit the wall a few kilometers too early. Thankfully, I timed my
bonk so that I was less than 1k from the finish, and was able to drag myself
in. Even so, it was the longest kilometer of my life, very flat terrain with
a final short steep push at the end.
I was crying when I finished the race, and I still can't say why. I had a
great race, possibly the best race of my life thus far, finishing 10th
Canadian in my first year as a senior. But I know that's not why I was
crying. I think I was just finished. I couldn't untie my shoes or take my
skisuit off; John had to drive me back to the barracks where I got fed apple
juice and had pretty girls take my clothes off. I had to lie down for about
40 minutes and drink lots of sugar water before I could stop shaking and
crying. After that, miraculously, I was fine - just the normal dead-legs
feel of after a 50.
It was a 'good' bonk in that it was well-timed. But it was also the deepest
into energy debt I have ever driven myself. It's a good feeling, and it's
good to have the experience, to have something to work towards in the
future. Just giv'er, eh?
Interesting Reading. . .
