S2S '16

S2S brings things out of me that are otherwise dormant or depressed. It's interesting to see where they'll bubble - the night before in Glacier, as we eat smoked salmon Hawaiian pizza & drink Kulshan Sunnylands in front of the cabin's fire, at the 4:30 am alarm, the smell of cabin coffee seeping beneath the door, set from the night before, in the steadying of hand as on goes waterproof mascara, in the foggy climb up 542-W as we curve Baker and car-free bodies climbing, as we park the Westfalia - a symbol of comfort, combined warmth, mimosas and fingers-to-mouth-fret. It comes somewhere, sits in pockets of space, dispels, comes back. Perhaps because it's not singular; it's not singularly S2S, but an original act of rebellion, something that we used to do together, how seamless it feels for my body to fall, and not only fall but push to fall faster, the good good pain, and/or cultivating anxiety to action to eventual depression that this thing is over. Largely unnamed, just a jumble of descriptives that try to why.

"I don't know why we do this," is just a blanket statement for, "This is where I feel most alive." Kind of like how people hide behind, "I don't love you anymore's," or, "I'm ready's." In our pre-race team meeting we're in this home, recently re-painted, in a state of remodel, with bean bags, rope swings, trampolines, a long table potlucked with paella, roasted vegetables, homemade bread with homemade honey butter, and you've got to realize that there's this air of strategy, nerve, excitement, athletic prowess, but also domestic availability, literally extremely busy women who found time to train, commit, and also bake the bread.

Morning of we met up with a filmmaker who was focusing on 3 teams for a docu/future advertising; hunched with camera, soaking, his glasses fogged, waiting for those departure shots, those ski to shoulder and clump clumps. Corrine started us off with the xc ski leg, 22nd overall (28:45), next Ber in the dh ski, moving us to 12th (27:22), handing off to me with a luscious American ass. I thought S2S would be the end of my competitive spring/summer. Leading up, I hadn't had a pain free week of running for months. Another part of me thought that perhaps the downhill would jam something awake, distract, create opportunity. Then Zeus squealed from the sad slush of the mountain, and I had a pain-free run. Moved us to 8th overall (40:37), and hunched back, mouth agape and in a nauseous pain, handed off to Lise on road bike. Lise rode us to 11th (1:42:28), handed to Veronica & Char on canoe, maintaining our place (2:10:44), to Beth on cx bike, bringing us to 14th (44:30), and finally, to Biceps herself, Heather (48:12), finishing us off in 12th overall, our highest placement & 1st Whatcom Women's Team for a 10th year in a row, with a time of 7:02:41. Thank you to Kae and Kulshan Cycles for being our sponsor, friend, and family.

Red was at the finish with towel and kept me comforted as I laid face down on the massage table for a couple minutes of soft prodding. Lydia & Al came in hard. We dried ourselves. Al & I started walking up the mountain because I was told that if I could get to the Westy faster, I could have more mimosas; stopped at the volunteer tent and ate all of their nut mix, heckling, dancing as the line of cars was released down the mountain. Jumped into the Westy where a big bottle of champagne was popped, dixie cups and phallic straws. Hot showers, bent at the hips and a day of rally.

Mck, Kris & LB had come up to support & celebrate; we shared a bottle of black bubbles, went for quesadillas and margaritas, walking back and forth on the strip to Marine Park. Awards, lackluster and daunting, but a privilege to stand on the stage with my teammates. After-party with the team for pizza, beer, wine and a ton of tequila on the shot skis. Then the after-after-party, where I got to relax with the out-of-towners at several haunts, staying on that tequila train, laughing endlessly, everything strange, and ultimately, over.

Photo creds: Brandon Nelson, Bellingham Herald, Whatcom Events, Scott Morrison, Red.