The last few weeks have gone by so quickly, I haven’t had time for my anticipated freak-out about perishing in the remotest reaches of the steppe. I ditched many of my responsibilities at home in Tucson to visit my dad at home in Colorado, where I had four glorious horse-free days laying in bed for hours because I COULD. I still woke up at 5 am sans alarm--I’ve got myself trained--but rolled around in blissful boredom for several more hours before finally getting vertical (and then after hefty breakfasts, sat on my derriere for more hours and hours of doing nothing in front of a screen). I did bring a litany of things to do from my never-ending To-Do List, and thoroughly ignored them.Â
Except for the evenings. For four nights in a row, I attended a gym class series called Tribe--think a watered-down CrossFit meets Boot Camp class with a ridiculously peppy instructor who must secretly hate humanity because of the things she made us do. Now, I am reasonably fit after months of 5 am weights and spin classes, hiking, and spending hours and hours and hours (and hours!) out with the horses. I pushed myself to surpass everyone in the class (except, at times, my gym rat dad who came along some of the days) in weights, reps, and speed--after all, I’m the Mongol Derby Girl. I had to prove--mostly to myself--that I am tough. But four days in a row (regular participants attend, max, two classes per week because of the intensity) left me feeling like someone beat the crap out of me in a dark dirty parking lot. It hurt to breathe.Â
The first day, I essentially held a suspended plank position for an hour while contorting my body in ridiculous ways in an attempt to strengthen my core while also avoiding vomiting. The second day was a series of nonstop circuits that made me want to pass out, soil myself, and throw up all at once. It made me regret eating everything I ever ate, and I didn’t feel like eating for hours after the class (possibly the only time I’ve felt like that in my 25 years). The third and fourth days were a blur. More than the physical training, showing up for Tribe four consecutive days was excellent mental training: to keep going even though everything hurt.Â
I left Colorado early to jet back to Arizona and drive up to the White Mountains for elevation training with my new friend, Beatrice. She was training for Tevis, the famed 100-mile, 24-hour race in the Sierra Nevadas. Greer, Arizona is a completely different world from Tucson: forested mountains with sprawling meadows and valleys at 8500 feet. We rode for miles through gorgeous scenery and gorged ourselves on strawberry-rhubarb treats, and I continued to ignore my ever-present, ever-growing To-Do List.Â
Ahab and I check out the view:
What much of Mongolia may (hopefully) look like:
Navigating through the forest--GPS skills improving!
Magic, a neighbor’s horse, needed an attitude adjustment, so of course I hopped on (also had somewhat of a dress rehearsal--yes, I know I look ridiculous):
I then left Greer early to pop home before a last-minute-decision drive up to Moab to visit fellow Derby rider Liz Brown (Canada), whom I’ve been in contact with since she interviewed me for an upcoming VICE article.Â
Liz has been training with endurance racing legend Christoph Schork at Global Endurance Training Center in Moab for the past six weeks. To give you an idea of how serious an endurance facility this is: you can rent a horse for the Tevis Cup from Christoph for $6500--and his horses always finish (Christoph himself finishes in the top ten consistently, and often wins). He and partner Dian’s impressive bios can be found on their website at http://globalendurance.com/about-us/.
Liz might think I’m a little nutty (though she’s into this insane race too): I brought only what I’m bringing for the Derby, didn’t change clothes or shower for three days of sweaty desert rides, and made her abandon her lush ensuite room in the house to camp out with me in the backyard. Surprisingly, the best conditioning for an endurance horse is hours of walking, though we did fast 10-mile rides daily and rode some youngsters as well.Â
My favorite of the several I rode in Moab, Christoph’s stallion Express. Riding him was like lounging on a couch. New visor compliments of Soless! Check them out if you want to avoid looking like an old lady or a deranged cowgirl, http://www.soless.net
Following Christoph on a fast ride:
Liz and I fine-tuned our gear and timed ourselves packing up camp--I’m down to seven and a half minutes. Liz was a bit slower, as she’s operating with one hand--read about HER training adventures at http://www.horse-canada.com/desk-to-derby/--excellent reading, she’s a pro writer (google Liz Brown, Metro Canada for her celebrity interviews too!). She’s also one of those super-athletic types, runs marathons and such. Though she’s five inches taller, we weigh the same. I try not to hold it against her.Â
Having another friendly face on the steppe will be fantastic. I’ve invited her to ride with Team Bacon as much as possible, though she may take it easier than we do. After all, as with any big-time adventuring, to FINISH is to win (though, more and more, Kat and I are thinking that to win is to win...).Â
Quick zip through Arches National Park before the nine-hour drive home--though I spent as much time behind the wheel as in the saddle, the trip was worth it.
Now I’m back in Tucson, taking care of business and wrestling with that obnoxious To-Do List. It’s my final week of prep, which means I get to taper. No more five a.m. starts, four-hour rides, or serious workouts. It also means I’m scrambling to get my gear under weight, considering (too late) the pros and cons of rain pants, and fundraising my tail off. Overall, besides being perhaps the chubbiest of the Mongol Derby 2015 contenders (and I am by no means fat, folks), I’m feeling good about this race. To finish is to win, yes... but imagine if I won...
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