Original post from XTri.com is
hereEver since the early days of our youth, the word camp has undoubtedly brought about visions of sitting around the campfire, of telling stories, of eating great food, and of doing memorable and fun things. Summer camp was always a time to escape the realities of being a kid: of having to do your summer chores or your summer job, and even your summer games or your summer fun. Mowing the lawn and throwing the morning paper were no longer of any concern to the eager camper. Being at camp was all that mattered. And being at camp was priceless.
As we age—and as responsibilities change from paper routes to real jobs—we tend to lose contact with the essence of camp life. We tend to get stuck in the ruts of the real world: of work and family and business. And we tend to lose sight of how fun it can be to escape reality for one week, and to rekindle the fun of just being at camp.
This week a group of individuals from Illinois, Georgia, Idaho and Colorado all gathered in the Santa Ynez valley of California to relive the glory days of camp, and to complete an epic week of training with Endure It’s version of the Solvang Triathlon Camps.
We started our week with great ambition: we would ride every day; we’d run and swim when our bodies would allow; we’d taste from the local wineries; we’d sample the local fare (some of us more than others!); we’d smile, we’d whine (only a bit), we’d sweat, we’d cough; and throughout the whole experience, we’d laugh.
Nearing the end of the week long camp, we can say that we’re earning a solid A+ for our efforts toward the goal.
To share the entire list of accomplishments and feats, of jokes and stories, of recipes and varietals, we’d run the risk of bragging. So rather than go that route, we chose instead to summarize our camp with this short list of highlights (with a few dim lowlights as well!).
• On Monday we did our best to slowly cover the Tour of California Time Trial course; but to challenge ourselves we rode it in reverse direction. Breakaways were chased down, and smack talk was at its peak. Nobody fell down.
• On Tuesday we chose to split the group in two. The riding had begun, but not all of us wanted to trash our legs until later in the week. Group 1 saw Arne of Idaho bridge every gap that opened on the Harris Grade ascent. While Group 2 enjoyed a leisurely stroll through Drum Canyon, culminating mid-ride with our only fallen rider of the week. We all shed a tear for Ron Good’s torn and tattered—but matching—vest. (He is OK now.)
• Wednesday’s ride was to be the marquis route of the camp. The beauty of the Jalama Beach ride is only surpassed by its relentless and challenging hills. Oh Jalama, why do you tempt us with your World Famous Cheeseburger? Do you not know we must climb up and out of this beach paradise on our bicycles, or that mustard and ketchup do not sit well with churning quads and cranks?
• By mid-week it became evident that our legs needed a break; however, our avoidance of any quality core work or gym sessions was wearing on a few campers’ psyches. Thankfully the campfire was hot; the campfire was large. And the campfire stories were just hilarious enough to keep our abs working hard enough to merit logging the storytelling hour as a training session. (Note: most folks’ abs are still sore from the “used car—poop” story.)
• Thursday’s highlight was arguably the trip to Solvang Town for a hot and toasty breakfast on the square. Most athletes’ greatest struggle was to choose between eggs and waffles and French toast. Everyone was a winner then. Later on, the day’s greatest test was to remain in the small chain ring, for this day was to be purely used as a recovery spin.
While “spinning” does not often enter into some of our crew’s vocabulary, there were no major violations on the day. The 1st Endurance rider of the day was Barry, who cleverly acknowledged that turning around and cutting the ride short was the best way to nail his recovery that day. Well done, Barry!
• Then Friday came. It came with the promise of sunshine and blue skies. It came with the promise of challenge, sprinkled with a bit of pain. It came with trepidation, wonder, and fear. It came with respect. It came with the FIG! Our goal was to summit Mt. Figueroa, a 9.3-mile climb with an average grade of 9%. However, to get the climb started, we had to first clear the 22% pitch within its first quarter mile. Ouch was the word most often muttered, but it was hard to hear it over the din of our huffing and puffing. Reaching the top and reaping the reward of expansive views and burning lungs was well worth the pain we felt. We’ll be back.
And now we turn to our final days of camp. Tomorrow’s miles are to be easy and slow; we hope to continue with our story telling and joke sharing; we plan to continue our laughter, and above all, we plan to drink fine wine, to eat more delicious food; and we aim to dance until our sore legs can move no more.
And when it’s all said and done, we hope to have a much fresher and clearer memory of camp life. And we hope to remember our time quite fondly all year long, right up to the day we return for the 2011 Solvang Triathlon Camp. Do come join us!
-Michael Lovato
