The Dirt Field

Simply stated, it was a great weekend of racing. Great friends, nice weather, sweet results, and well-run races. The injuries from last weekend are still hanging around, as evidenced by the various aches and the stuff still oozing out of my knee and elbow. But when I see a guy missing half of his leg hauling ass up a serious climb in the Cat 4/5 men’s race at Black Hills, I get a little perspective and slap myself with RULE FIVE! (Also, that guy is my new hero.)

Black Hills Circuit Race
I liked the setting and the course here quite a bit. Although I was in the Cat 4 race, we started with the 1/2/3 women and I had no idea who belonged to which category. The race felt more comfortable and controlled than last weekend from the beginning, which may have had something to do with the fact that I was riding off the front early on. All I could think was, “I am doing this wrong! I am doing this wrong!” Although I managed to ease off and rejoin the herd, my fear of riding near other people left me either in the front or off to the side for the majority of the race. None of the breaks stuck, so when a girl made a move towards the end, I didn’t chase. She ended up winning; oops. I took third in the uphill sprint to the finish.

Frankly, I didn’t have much fun. Because I was so nervous about the pack dynamics, I ended up riding alone a lot or being very anxious around other riders. It was also weird to sit at the front of the peloton and realize that I was controlling the field: because nobody wanted to sit in the wind, people were content to let me choose the pace for the whole group. When somebody would make a move, the field would sprint for a few seconds and then slow down immediately and go back to coasting around. In mountain biking, you sprint hard from the start, race as fast as you can against the course, and cross the finish line. It’s simple, straightforward, organic. Road racing is so different; as my charmingly delicate friend put it: “The whole race is like foreplay leading up to a 30-second sprintgasm at the end.” I finished the Black Hills race thinking that road racing might not be my thing.

Richmond International Raceway Criterium
Then came the race today, which was the epitome of Awesomefun Bikingtime! I was able to watch the Cat 3/4 men’s race and went into my race (the combined 1/2/3/4 women’s race) knowing that breaks would probably not stick and that I should sit in the pack out of the wind. That worked out well for a lap or so, until I got back on the front and then never really left. The other women seemed okay with that; we soft-pedaled around the track while I waved at my friends and made an ass of myself on the front. A few breaks seemed to have a chance at succeeding (including one that I chased down), but nothing stuck.

Surprisingly, I realized early on that I was having fun. Not only were the pack dynamics less anxiety-inducing, but it was exciting to chase people down, sit in, and move around the field. It was like chess, at 20+ mph in multicolored spandex. I even forgot to look at the lap cards, which blew my mind because those are normally burned into my mind.

When two women attacked and pulled away, I let them go because I thought they’d be reeled back in shortly. I was wrong, so when another woman attacked to bridge the gap, I went with her. She didn’t make it more than 100 feet before giving up, but I decided to go for it and bled out my eyes until catching the tail end of the break. The three of us worked together to keep the lead and rode into the final turn to start the sprint to the finish. My foot unclipped 50 feet from the finish line mid-sprint in a colossal OH SHIT! moment (probably a karmic penalty for violating Rule 34), but I re-clipped in and sprinted across the finish line for the win. It felt fantastic. I can’t wait for my next road race.

In Other News
My friends from The Bike Lane team – Andrew, Bruce, David, Pierce, and RJ – had an amazing race in the Cat 3/4 men at Richmond. I knew they had a plan for the day, but when they started out and were sitting towards the back of the pack of 93 men, I thought something was going wrong. It wasn’t; in the last few laps, they all moved cleanly to the front, executed a flawless leadout, and set up Andrew for the final sprint. He took 3rd and I took away the realization that well-played road racing tactics can be pretty damn impressive. Nicely done, boys.