The Dirt Field

The Race: Tour of the Battenkill in Cambridge, NY

The Course: 1 lap, 64 miles, 25% dirt roads, lots of climbing

The Field: Cat 3 women, 60 starters (my biggest starting field yet)

The Finish: 1st, in a solo breakaway

All the advice for this race said to make sure to be near the front for the climbs and the dirt sections, so I started on the line. After the neutral roll out, I dropped into the pack a little, and then a whole hell of a lot: I was so eager to avoid crossing wheels with anyone that I let girl after girl slide past me until I had worked myself into the back of the field with no space to move up. Monika was nowhere to be seen ahead of me – it turned out she had slipped back as well. I had to wait until the field turned left to sprint all the way up the side in the space opened up by the turn and the lack of centerline, and then fought to stay in the top ten until the field melted apart.

The dirt sections were fun; it felt like I was back on the SM 100 course, except on tiny tires that I expected to puncture at any moment. The climbs weren’t bad – I kept my cadence as high as I could and tried not to work any harder than the girls on the front. By around mile 30, the field had split and Monika and I were riding in a group of about ten girls. That quickly dropped to eight, then seven, and then six as girls dropped off the back of our rotating paceline.

Also, I am terrible at the concept of pacelines. This is going to require some practice. Poor Monika continually has to tell me things like, “Let other people pull through!” and “Smooth, steady!” She is definitely the brains of this operation (although I’m evidently a pro at stealing the covers in my sleep).

I had tried an attack with another girl around mile 25 (unintentionally – we got a gap at the top of a long climb and just decided to go with it), but it hadn’t stuck and I wasn’t sure when to try making another move. The girls in our break were strong enough that I figured it would come down to the final stretch of the race because nobody was going to get away. But then we hit a dirt section with some climbing, I looked behind me to see space opening, and I went for it. On the pedals as hard as I could, pulling away until there was nobody in sight behind me. Only after I’d committed to the move did I realize I still had 12 miles to go, including one significant climb.

It was hard, but I kept riding strong and steady, following the pace car and nailing the rolling hills. My water ran out, so when I tried to eat a Clif Shot Rok, it wouldn’t go down and I had to disgust some spectators by spitting out a half-chewed wad of brown matter. I wanted to ask some of the men I passed for water, but I was afraid to slow down so I just focused on drilling it. When the cramping started, I used my favorite tactic of literally yelling at my legs, “Don’t effing cramp, dammit!” It sounds crazy to people nearby, but it works. The last climbs flew by and then suddenly the course signs were saying 5km, 4km, 3km, etc. At least that’s how it feels now…at the time, I was pretty sure those signs were several miles apart.

Rolling into the finish was awesome – it was lined with people on both sides and they were all watching me (me! in my cool new kit! woohoo! so weird!) finish. I wanted to do the whole two arms in the air thing, but my balance is so-so on a good day and by that point, I was cooked. Thus:

I aggressively hugged the man working the finish who handed me a bottle of Gatorade and then waited to see how the other girls finished. Monika came rolling through alone just under three minutes later with a very strong second place finish and enough points to get her well-deserved cat 2 upgrade. It was an amazing day for both of us and the large bottles of chocolate milk we were handed on the podium iced the cake.