Return to Cyclocross
I had a dream the night before the first CX race of the season that we were all meeting at The Gap before the start of the race. The other women racers were buzzing around the store picking up the latest fall fashions and I kept looking all around thinking, "I don't have any money...I don't like these clothes...I don't want to buy anything here...". So I go to the sale rack and those clothes are even more tacky (hence they're on sale) and I feel even more out of place. Finally the other racers are done shopping so we meet at a big table and get the pre-race speech. A Cat 1-2 racer I've heard all about is sitting next to me and she makes me really nervous. Will I do ok? Will I kick ass? Will I be as strong as I was last year? I have put so many expectations on myself. The race begins, but I don't see it in my dream. It's over and I end up 50th out of 100 women. The Cat 1-2 racer came in 6th. I'm utterly devastated. In my first race last year I came in 5th out of about 30 women on a singlespeed. And today I came in 50th. I call my friend Dane and tell him my sob story. Usually very empathetic, he doesn't really give a crap. "Yeah that happens," is all he can muster. I hang up the phone totally dejected. I'm not what I was last year....
Then my alarm goes off. Race time!
I toss all my crap in the car, put Pomegranate on top, and zip down I-5 through the Tacoma Aroma and find ourselves back at Ft. Steilacoom. It's a beautiful day! Pure sun, warm temps, leaves beginning to change, and all sorts of old friends milling about welcoming you back to another season.
I was familiar with the course from last year. It was the hardest one for me on my singlespeed, not even taking into account being ridiculously hung over from the previous night's Messman's Masquerade race, where I got to know a particularly dashing masked man. Ft. Steilacoom's course is the hilliest of the Puget Sound bunch. It has a great big hill in the middle of the course with an enormous runup and then two small hills right after in case your legs had anything left. For those with gears they can ask for some sympathy from their derailleur and shift, but for those of us with one gear those two little hills suck the life out of you. Last year that was the one place where two people passed me. I figured this year wouldn't be much different.
Two warmup laps went pretty well. The runup was dusty and loose and beginning to warm up in the direct southern sun exposure. The top side of the course had lots of gravel road, not my favorite, then the rest was fun singletrack and three long straight sections where I knew people would have an opportunity to pass me as I spun on one gear.
At the start I saw Denny line up with the men and I shoo-ed him to get farther up in the starting line. They had over 60 men and I knew he was a strong rider and would do well in front away from the others who had no idea what they were doing. There were a lot of places for bottlenecks and someone like him deserves a better chance in front.
As for the women, more than 40 of us lined up at the start. Sweet! It was great seeing everyone smiling and nervous for the next 45 minutes of exertion. Someone asked what the cards were in my front wheel. I said, "They're spoke cards from races that my boyfriend put on. He's in India now for a post-doc and can't see me race, so this is my way of bringing him with me." All the girls around me let out a round of "AWWWWWWWWWWs". hahahaha.
Dane assumed his favored position in front of the women and counted down the final seconds. BANG! We were off!! I tried my best to spin like mad and stay out in front, away from the pending bottleneck creeping up behind me. I did well staying in the top 10, but the sound of shifting of gears around me resigned me to my slot. We easily got into a line of riders without much changing of position. The first time up the long runup, no one was going anywhere fast. We all trudged up. The sun was hot, the trail dusty and endless. People yelled encouragement, but the blood was pounding so hard in my head I couldn't understand anything. I heard Janna and appreciated her shouts, but they weren't quite the rope I needed to pull me up the rest of the way. At the top, the runup leveled off a bit, but still had a grade to it. All the girls had a difficult time getting back on their bikes. Wheels didn't move in a straight line, pedals didn't cooperate, people stopped. Once we were off again, the two small hills were ahead. I made it up both without getting off, but it wasn't pretty and I almost took someone out by hitting their rear wheel. Lovely.
Once at the top of the plateau, I could breathe and enjoy riding in the leaves and in the sun. I remembered the abandoned military building and tower, the twists and turns through the big maples that had left a foot of colorful leaves on the ground last year. This year there were two barriers waiting for us to jump over. I did a great job actually leaping over the barriers rather than the inglorious “Tinkerbell” hop. I rode over more gravel roads and down the singletrack, through the woods and around the field, over more barriers where I was greeted by Jose!! He was one of the highlights, yelling my name and ringing his dang white cowbell right in my face. There was no escaping him and I laughed so hard. Then it was off down the road towards the announcer (telling me of my 10th place standing) and on for another three laps. I would go down fighting.
The nice thing about a CX race is the participants get really strung out. I heard there were well over 100 combined category racers on the small course, but you wouldn't know it. I had some people in front of me, but we never got all over each other. Everyone kept their space and passed when able…like when I messed up going down one of the gravel roads and took the wrong line that bounced me all over the place...two girls raced right pass me and I never caught up with them. It's stupid things like that that make the difference in placing. RATS.
At the top of the plateau on my third lap, I saw Jane hobbling next to Maura with her arm in a makeshift sling. "Jesus Christ are you alright?!!?!" I yelled as I rode past. Jane mumbled a "yeah" and I kept going. I could have stopped, but I knew she would want me to keep going for one more lap. It turns out that she toppled over on one of the small uphills while trying to pass someone. She fell into the ditch by the side of the trail and her ribs hit the lip of the ditch. She was in an immense amount of pain after the race and we took her to the Ballard Swedish ER (such service!). A few x-rays, Lara bars, and flirtations with nurses later, the doc came back with his diagnosis. What we thought would be a severely broken rib or three, turned out to be a bad bruise or slight hairline fracture. Jane's on some fun painkillers and ready to ride again next week.
Denny ended up taking 7th out of 63 dudes. Yo Denny!! Who knew man-pris, a t-shirt, and a beard could show up so many squids. I did!!
As for me, it wasn't the runup or overall conditioning that put me in 13th place at the end. It was stupid mistakes on my part. Not taking the right line, watching my wheel instead of where I was going. That and those two stupid hills after the runup. Just like last year. I didn't get 50th place, but in the top 10 would have been better. Next time. No more stupid mistakes. And one gear will be all I need.
