The Dirt Field

The Race: Dilworth Criterium

The Course: 50 minutes, two left turns

The Field: Pro 1/2/3 women

The Finish: 20th

I felt good on the warm up, but quickly realized after the race started that the previous five races had taken their toll and I was tired. Moved around in the field more successfully than in earlier races, but didn’t have the same level of recovery between efforts I’d usually have. I wanted to try for another prime, so I gunned it on the back side of the course on a prime lap and thought I was clear as I approached the line, only to be surprised by a sprinter jumping off my wheel to beat me. At that point, I was frustrated, blown up, and off the front, so I soft-pedaled until the field caught up and rejoined the group. There was another point where I was on the front looking at another rider up the road, but now I can’t recall how that came together (and clearly it wasn’t “and then we rode in a break to win”). Good story.

Towards the end of the race, there was another prime lap as I was sitting towards the front of the field coming up the climb to the start/finish. Nobody seemed to be going for it, so I jumped, hauled ass to the line, and thought I was good until Sarah F. jumped off my wheel with a clean sprint around me. I couldn’t even be annoyed, since by that point I should have learned to watch who I’m towing. I fell back into the field, tried to keep a decent position for the last two laps, and ‘sprinted’ (aka heaved my exhausted corpse across the line) into 20th.

And that was it for Speed Week. Because Monika and I were headed to Jeff Cup the next day, we missed the last race in Georgia, leaving XO Communications/Battley Harley-Davidson 10th overall in the women’s team standings, and Monika in 34th and me an 27th in the individual standings. It was an incredible experience – we both learned so much about racing, crit tactics, bike handling, and what it’s like to live the life of a pro cyclist on the road. I could not have asked for a better teammate and friend than Monika; at the beginning of the trip, I was nervous about spending so much time with another person in such close quarters, but by the end, I wanted to cry as she drove away (probably singing the new song I taught her, “99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall”).