Race Report

Here’s the skinny:  I am getting wimpy. 

Saturday, I raced in a 35 mile bike road race.  I was duly impressed by the caliber of cyclist whizzing along pot-hole laden roads.  32 women lined up and at least 20 of us were shoulder to shoulder after the completion of lap 2 on a 3 lap race.

I rode the center, jockeyed up and back, and heard the shouts of “hold your line” as women got nervous over cutting wheels and breaking cyclists.  Gravel etched out from tight corners and riders held their wheels not letting you in or out regardless of your wants.  The men’s race before ours suffered a crash moments prior to their finish and my eyes couldn’t help but notice the scars on many of the women’s arms.  They were here to “play” so bring your ball or go home.

I have been here.  This serious cycling is thrilling, intense, and to me down right scary.  Things are different for me now.  I have my children and a fall resulting in a broken arm (like college) or worse is no longer an option.  More so, I don’t even want it on my list of potential scenarios.  Dread filled my mind.  I hated being in the peleton.

3 laps gives you 2 laps to plot and 1 lap to act.  This course had only one option for a break away.  9 miles from the finish line, we found a sharp right turn and a steep down hill that bottomed out into a wall of a short climb.  During lap 1 & 2, I noticed riders breaking into this hill and taking it at relative ease.  Lap 3, the final lap, I decided to move forward and take the inside turn.  This resulted in me being spit out right in front and I gunned the hill, dropped over the top, and found myself alone.  I felt like someone who might have just pissed off an angry hive.  I knew they were coming and I was running scared.

It was 8 miles of head wind to the finish. One cyclist charged me down.  Katie is a professional triathlete for Zoot.  We took turns pulling and worked together.  Certainly, those girls were coming for us as I knew for a fact that I was not the strongest cyclist in that pack.

Why did I go off the front?  Frankly, I percieved that this pack would not break up at all and that it would be a 15 or more person sprint for the line.  I did not want to be in that jossle.  I saw one opportunity for a real break away, it was early, but I thought I would try. 

Katie dropped off me 2 miles before the line.  I thought the win was mine.  A mile from the finish, she caught me again and we had an all out, up on the horns, wheel for wheel sprint for the finish.  Her wheel crossed first.  It was so thrilling that at first I did not even mind losing.  We shared a high five.

It was an awesome day and an impressive day, but I’m not sure I’ll be back in the peleton.  You go girls!

~ by drea on July 21, 2008.