Don't Call it a Comeback

This past weekend was my first race weekend in almost 2 years.  The first one since I broke my arse.  The first one racing completely unattached and with absolutely no idea what "fast" was anymore.  That's a lot of pressure for one silly weekend, isn't it?
 

Stray bike-racer on the ferry

 

After a run to storage Friday morning (you can blame me for the colder weather this week - I went to storage to retrieve summer-y clothes), dodging Cherry Blossom tourists for openers at Hains and picking up a stray bike racer, we were finally on our way.  The stray bike racer had sent out a rabbit to scope traffic for us.  Ok, in reality, the stray bike racer's wife was ahead of us by about an hour and was gracious enough to call with traffic tips.  The HOV lane was key to getting out of the area as was the Jamestown Ferry to avoid 64 traffic.  I believe that was the first time I've been on a car-ferry.  It was a cool option - and it was free!!

Bike racks rock ... as long as my bike is comfortably inside!

Finally get to the right hotel (did you know there were 2 Hiltons in Suffolk??  me, neither) around 8pm and the search for food was ON.  Strike 1: Hotel restaurant telling us that they just let half their staff go right before taking a huge order as we were walking in.  Strike 2: Panera- they had just closed (it was past 9pm by then).  3rd time's the charm: Applebees, which was apparently the hot-spot for Suffolk ... definitely the place to get your FUNK on.  We spent most of dinner trying to remember the names of songs or the bands as they came on (is that Kool and the Gang? oohh ... young Prince! etc).  I don't remember falling into bed but before we knew it, the alarm was going off.  I gently (eg: if you want a ride home, you'll do it) persuaded the boys that they had to get up and go to my race since I was going to have to sit around for theirs.  We gathered for our free hotel breakfast (compliments of the apologetic waiter from the night before) and piled into our car.  Away we go! ... until we heard the tell-tale flop of a flat tire.  Luckily, the Evo girls hadn't left yet so they graciously loaded up my bike and made room in the car for me to crash their party, yet again.

A quick warm up on the trainer as I assessed the course ... flat, fast.  One 90degree turn, two sweeping turns and another tighter turn but not quite 90 degrees.  Decent field, several Artemi and a couple other two-offs.  The rain held off but it was gloomy and humid (it rained for the boys later).  I didn't really have the pre-race jitters, I think the morning's flat tire debacle had taken those away.  Off we went.  I stayed near wheels I knew and worked on moving through the pack.  I was surprised at how comfortable I was - something about being in the race makes you think less about the race, if that makes sense.  The Artemi commenced the attack/counter attack move but were off on timing.  By the middle of the race you could read them like a book.  I sat on one wheel and followed it when she went.  About 1/4 of a lap later, she flicks her elbow to tell me to pull through. Nice try.  When she looked back, I simply said - for the first time in years - sorry, I don't have any teammates.  She said "neither do I up here", completely missing the point - I knew it wasn't going to stick and I wasn't going to wear myself out so her teammates could counter.  I've been out of the game for a while but I still know how to PLAY the game.  

At one point I heard someone go down behind me in the 90degree turn - just kept pedaling and made sure the boys saw me the next time around so they wouldn't worry.  I followed a move with 3laps to go that I probably shouldn't have.  I spent a lap recovering and found myself in the back for 1 to go.  Things got a little sketch around turn 3 and was all out in turn 4 so I sat up.  I am probably listed as dead-last (some issue with lapped riders getting scored on the lead lap).  I don't care.  I accomplished my goal for the day - stay upright.  I survived my first race.  I was never in trouble, I got to play a little and generally remembered why I love to race.

Long drive home, fell into bed again and the alarm went off wayy too early again.  Didn't really have to load up since we didn't really unpack.  Added a clean kit and some fresh bottles and away we go - again.  The boy's race was before mine and all I kept hearing was how hard this course was.  Sweet.  Started to warm up on the trainer but decided the road was better - even seeing the course backwards was better than not seeing it at all.  The boy's race looked like a cluster and I was glad to see everyone came out of it no-worse for the wear.  We met briefly between races so he could put the "fast" wheels on my bike and I set off for the start line.  It was great to see some friendly faces and chit chat with girls I've raced with for years but haven't seen since I went MIA. 

The ref gave the go-ahead and we started off.  And I heard that tell-tale flop of a flat tire, only this time on the bike.  I pulled off and immediately got some assistance from the aforementioned stray bike racer (picking up strays pays off sometimes! kidding, thank you!!)  I rolled back to the car, letting the boy know what happened since he'd worry if he saw the race roll around and I wasn't in it.  I have to admit there were tears - mostly from adrenaline that went unused but some out of sheer disappointment that my first "real" race back was a FAIL.  Thanks to Jen, who came over to chat and catch up, which helped (temporarily) keep me from wallowing in the situation.  I know it wasn't anyone's fault but dammit, can't SOMETHING go easy on this comeback trail? 

So, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.  On to Jeff Cup next weekend ... here's hoping for sunny weather and tires full of hot air.