Yeah, it was that kind of weekend. It started out with grand plans and a massage and went down-hill from there.
Early in the week I planned to go down for the Chesapeake races - the age-graded champion crit, which looked fun last year when I watched the boy do it, and the 2nd 2012 edition of the PLTT
At my coach's advice, I scheduled a massage for Thursday - my first one in almost a year since I left Baltimore. The massage was relaxing, though not near as good as the ones I got from Yuri at Well-Being Massage Studio in Columbia, MD. Feeling somewhat rejuvenated, I start the short drive home. I'm sitting at a light in Clarendon and I notice smoke coming from somewhere in front of me and assumed it was the exhaust from the car ahead. Then the light changed and as we started moving I realized, no, smoke is still in front of me and the car is not. I hear a ding - the warning system in my car saying the engine is overheating. I look at the dial in the dash and the needle is all the way right with the red lit up. I'M GOING TO BLOW UP MY CAR IN THE MIDDLE OF CLARENDON. The panic that set into me was indescribable. So much for the stupid massage. I willed the lights to stay green and traffic to keep moving - I was less than a mile from home and I had no idea what to do. I manged to get the car home ... and now what? I begged a ride from the neighbor to get some coolant after speaking to the boy. Who knew Walgreens carried coolant but the local Exxon doesn't? I pour it in the correct reservoir and go to sleep with the hope that it solves the issue.
It didn't. I drove the car to the parking garage near work - a whole 1.5 miles away. By the time I pulled in, it was overheating. Dammit. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm lost without my car. Lost. AAA graciously came and took the car to my mechanic and I metro'd to and from work. I appreciated the metro more that day than I ever have before. I get home on Friday and hop on my bike to retrieve my fixed car. $550 later, I roll out. Relieved. Planning my trip to Chesapeake. Happy it was relatively easy.
It wasn't. By the time I got home - about 4.5miles - and pulled in the parking lot, it was dinging and smoking for me again. I pick up the phone to call the shop and - they're closed. And they don't open again until MONDAY. Reality sets in that 1) no Chesapeake racing for me and 2) I'm stranded in Clarendon all weekend. Ok, so being stranded here isn't such a bad thing but if I'm going to skip races, there are other things I need to do that, unfortunately involve a car.
At the last minute I secured a ride up to the hill climb. I wasn't going to do it but I'm winning the 35+ BAR and the girl in 2nd place was doing it so ... off I go for a 2.5 hr hitched-ride for a 5min "race". Sigh. Worrying about the weekend, I didn't get much sleep and my friend (and local strong-girl-racer) showed up right on time at 6:30am. I felt horrible and was less than enthused but humbled and grateful that someone cared enough to go out of her way to help me. Long story short, I got beat by 1 second. I was gracious to the winner - being a poor loser sucks for everyone - but I was not all that happy about my showing. My chauffeur won one race and got 3rd in another, so that was cause for cheer. All I wanted to do was go home and go to bed.
Later that evening, my next hitched ride was on the way. Another friend willing to go out of his way to help me get down to the TT in Chesapeake, which should have been a test run before the Church Creek TT this coming weekend. Our 3 hour drive turned into an almost-epic 5.5 hour hike, complete with pouring rain at the end. And our TT bikes were on the roof of the car. We all know how I dislike my bike being in the out-of-doors unless I'm on it. And he - well, he had his DISC on the bike on the roof. Blasphemy, I tell you!
Arrive at the hotel late but another fantastic friend had already checked into our room earlier in the day and secured a roll-a-way bed for today's chauffeur. Wake up was 5:45 - the chauffeur had an alarm on his phone that shocked you out of bed. Disapprove. Free Holiday Inn Express breakfast and we were on our way. Plenty of time to warm up and I had explicit instructions from the boy on various preparations for the bike/disc wheel etc. I got in a decent warm up and made sure everything was working. I was the first rider off to go the full course (juniors and older masters did the short course). As I chatted with the holder and the chief ref I was assured that all the turns/intersections were attended by cops or road marshals. We briefly looked at the map of the revised course and it was time to go.
I had a decent start - good power numbers, solid position - I did lower my saddle just a bit and I'm not sure I should have power-wise but the upside was that I didn't feel like I was being impaled by it for an hour. I stand up off the ramp and hear my brake rub. Not ideal, but as long as I don't stand up, it should be ok. Anyway, I've got a Nickleback song in my head as it was the last song I heard on my iPod during the warm up (does everyone else do that? do you get a "theme song" for each time trial?) and I'm cruising right along, feeling pretty good about myself, despite hearing the brake rubbing every time I pedaled too hard. All seemed on track until I realize that, by this mileage, I should have taken a sharp left. I risk a glance behind me and realize there's no one in sight. I'm going fast but I'm not THAT fast. My stomach sinks as I turn around. About 2.5miles later, I encounter the missed turn, now manned by a cop. I asked "where were you when I came through here 10mins ago?" He responded with apologies, there was a mix up. I do my best not to flip out as I've got another 10 miles to go and, honestly, it's not the cop's fault. I see people in front of me and I start passing them, observing their numbers as I go by and doing the math that tells me that I'm at least 15mins off pace. I run through scenarios as to how this was going to go down with the promoters and refs as I realize that my day is shot.
I cross the line with almost 26 miles on my computer. For a 21.2miile TT. I hold back the anger and tears as I inquire as to who to talk to about course issues. I explain my plight to the ref that greets me and am given the fallback position of "It's the rider's responsibility to know the course". I'm so sick of hearing this. First, the intersection was around a blind curve. If I HAD made the turn at speed, there's a real chance that I could have been a hood ornament instead of a slightly emotional and angry racer. Second, they changed the course and hey, I just drove 5 hours to get here so it's not like I could pre-ride and/or have previous knowledge of the roads. Third - I'm paying $32 to race. What are the entry fees going toward if they can't at least put up a sign to direct the course - not to mention having someone to halt traffic on blind turns? If I wanted to memorize a course and take a solo ride, I can do that just fine with my garmin instead of paying someone for the pleasure of hearing "sorry, it's your responsibility to know the course". I know some will argue, and that's fine, but at least admit the safety issue, if not the fact that TTs are money-making ventures given that there's virtually no prize $$, medals and volunteers are cheap and this particular one didn't even have the expense of porta-johns. What exactly are we paying for?
I pull a 1:08 for my effort - extra mileage, stopping and rubbing brakes and all. I then proceed to have a complete meltdown in the parking lot. Sorry, you had to witness that, Evo friend ... Anger, sorrow, worry about what I'm going to do with the car situation, pent up anxiety given the recent streak of bad luck, disappointment in the previous day's result and the unfairness of today's result. Yeah, I won, by virtue of my one competitor not showing up. But even that didn't work out - they had already packed it in before I got my medal. Really.
Thank you to those kind and generous friends who offered to help in some way, shape or form. Thank you to Evo for the concern and encouragement (and for not freaking out when I had a meltdown). Thank you to my two chauffeurs, without whom this comedy of errors could not have occurred. I know life happens and sometimes you have to roll with the punches. I just wish my punches came in intervals - not in a barrage.
The car was towed back to the mechanics this morning and after some debate with the shop, I essentially paid half price for the eventual resolution (it wasn't the coolant reservoir, it was the cooling FAN - but I got a coolant reservoir whether I liked it or not!).
Anyone want to recommend a masseuse or masseur near the Clarendon/Rosslyn area? This stress-stuff does a number on a girl like me.
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