The Dirt Field

The Race: NCC Chris Thater Crit
The Course: 35 miles, 40 laps, 5 corners
The Field: 1/2 women
The Finish: 4th

When I planned to go to Thater, I knew it wasn’t going to be the best set-up for a race. Flying back from Aspen on Thursday, working on Friday, driving six hours to NY on Saturday, and racing Saturday evening were a recipe for less than stellar recovery. But I committed to the plans and figured I could handle one last big effort for the end of the season.

Then came a few days of stupid. I stayed out too late the last night in Aspen and slept for four hours before catching my flight. My layover in Denver was short (like no Wolfgang Puck airport pizza kind of short, which should really say something) and I had to make it from one end of the terminal to the other by running. Then I stayed up too late that night, worked a long day on Friday, threw in a few training rides, and attended my dear friend’s bachelorette party on Friday night. Exhibit A:

While I sipped club soda instead of shooters (the bartender was kind enough to ask, “Do you want me to make it look like a drink?” um, thanks, but I’ll own my choice to be lame), I was still dancing around in heels at 11pm the night before the race. I woke up exhausted on Saturday morning with leaden legs. The only saving grace was that my father was joining me on the trip and had offered to drive, so at least I could put my feet up and relax. Well, as much as one can while stuck in paving-induced traffic a few hours before the race. Dad remained calm while I swore, sweated, fretted, and peered at the road ahead with his tiny binoculars.

Lesson #1: Take recovery seriously. Go to bed early. Stay off your feet. Wear flat shoes. If you get the choice to sit it out or dance, sit it out. These things all add up and they do matter.

Going into Thater, I knew it would be a very different race than Aspen. Instead of big teams, there were big sprinters each supported by one or two teammates. Tactics would be key to securing a good result, as I knew I’d be outgunned in a pure field sprint. I also expected the overall pace to be slower, so after staging on the front row, I hesitated for a moment to slide into the pack since I didn’t expect anybody to launch off the line. We rolled the corners as a wide bunch and spun around in a group. A few laps in, I attacked  to see if people were willing to let me go, but no dice. After a lap off the front, the field was still five seconds behind, so I sat up and rejoined the party.

The next 30 laps were fairly uneventful. Amanda Watson (Edlow International) rode a strong race, spending quite a few laps off the front, and people surged to grab primes and try out short attacks, but the field reeled everything back in. My legs started to hurt more and more with each trip up the hill on the second leg of the course, but I tried to spin easy and stay fresh for the end, when I had planned to attack and establish a last-minute gap before the finish. I’d brought a gel to eat at the halfway point (something I don’t normally do in crits), but hadn’t planned so well on the hydration side for the longer race. With 8 laps to go, I was really thirsty, starting to cramp, and having to ration out the little bit of fluid left in my bottle.

Lesson #2: Bring more food/drink than you think you’ll need. Carrying an additional bottle is better than spending a quarter of the race thinking about snatching a drink from an unsuspecting spectator.

Heading into 4 laps to go, there was a crash in the last corner. The field split for a brief time, and as we regrouped, Amy McGuire (FCS/Rouse) attacked and established a gap. It was much earlier than I’d wanted to jump for my final move, but I was afraid to let her go so close to the end, so I took off. Once I made contact, I went around and kept going. That was somewhere around 2.5 laps to go. I rode as hard as I could and didn’t spend much time looking over my shoulder, but I could tell my gap was small (something like 5-7 seconds) and not increasing. When I came into the final stretch, my sprint was more of just a surge, which was all I could squeeze out of my wilting legs. The line was so close! SO FREAKING CLOSE! But in a whoosh of speed, Laura Van Gilder (Mellow Mushroom), Erica Allar (Ride Clean), and Jennifer Purcell (Tibco) flew by.

Let’s be honest here. I’m a crier, so of course I cried. DUH. I was so close to winning and believed in that moment that I’d lost it in the last few seconds. If only I’d gone faster, if only I’d sprinted harder, if only I’d recovered better in preparation, if only I’d sacrificed a sparkly unicorn. The disappointment was overwhelming, I pretty much hated me for not being able to ride harder, and when I thought about how my season was over and I’d have to wait another 6-7 months for the thrill of racing again, it was all too much for my tired, dehydrated, over-dramatic self. Props to my father for not shaking me violently in hopes of bringing about some sense.

It wasn’t until I was trying to sleep later that night that the light dawned. Literally, there was an aha! moment (that led to me calling my father in his hotel room at midnight to discuss; more props for his tireless patience). I realized that I didn’t lose the race at the line, that it wasn’t a matter of just being able to go a tiny bit harder at the end. My gap was never large enough to outpace the sprinters once they got going. I went as hard as I could for a few laps and decreased my ability to effectively sprint, so when they went for it, my puny 5-second lead was no match for their speed. To make that move work, I needed to have established a bigger gap. While I did the best I could, it just wasn’t enough to outrun them.

Feeling like I’d blown it at the last second was hard to accept, but realizing I’d miscalculated my tactics is a teachable moment that I can learn from going forward.

Lesson #3: The gap has to be bigger to hold off the field sprint. If you are riding full tilt for a few laps, you need enough of a lead before the leadout/sprint starts to account for the rest of the field increasing their speed dramatically.

The good part about understanding why this happened is that I can appreciate the positive aspects of this move. There have been races where I rode conservatively and later regretted it; this time, I gambled. You have to play to win, right? I don’t regret taking that chance. Even though I got caught, being off the front still put me ahead of the field sprint and landed a 4th place finish. It sucked to be so close to the win and then end up just off the podium, but I learned some valuable lessons and got another chance to race my bike. That makes for a great experience.

Oh, and that problem of being seriously bummed about it being the end of my season? Yeah, I fixed that, too. I’m going to keep racing for another month. Problem solved.