About a week before race-day, Ruth
mentioned on Facebook that the weather was going to be sunny and in the 60’s.
As the week progressed, forecasted temperatures dropped and by Saturday we knew
it was going to be NOT sunny and NOT in the 60’s.
Ever the optimist (or perhaps in
denial), I did some openers at home and proceeded to pack the car for the drive
south.
Race Day. Cold. Light rain.
Nothing I couldn’t handle. I wasn’t HAPPY about it but at some point a girl’s gotta
just get on with the business at hand. We had all of our Cat 2 women signed up
and the typical strong field of competition for the first big race of the
season. Given the weather conditions, several of the women (arguably smarter
than me) bowed out. We gathered for the
pre-race instructions. And waited. Freezing. Then we rolled out for the slow
ride to the start line. And waited. Freezing.
Finally the whistle blew and we got
moving. I was just happy to move hoping to warm up. I thought I was prepared
but I failed to pack winter gloves and shoe covers. It had rained most of the
night so the roads were wet; the second my feet got wet they froze. The upside
is that once they go numb you really can’t feel anything and hey, my legs could
still turn the pedals. See? Ever the optimist.
The first time up “the hill” we were rather civilized. I
felt good spinning up the climb and happy to be in the front few as we crested.
Then the downhill. In halfway normal conditions I can take a downhill. But
these were wet roads. With potholes that could be puddles and puddles that
might be potholes. And over-anxious riders, some recently upgraded and doing
their first 1-2-3 race. I backed WAY off and found myself chasing on. Which was
ok – upright and chasing sure beats on the pavement because someone thought
they could bomb a wet descent.
I caught on just fine and sat in for the “false flat”
section; we came across the line gruppo compacto. There were a few accelerations
and a couple of honest attacks. I was definitely conserving energy given the
distance of the race and the deteriorating conditions. Again, I dropped way
back on the descent leading up to the “false flat” and I just knew that someone would attack there.
And … someone did, just as I was recovering from chasing on. I did this to
myself, I said to me. And I was ok with it. The move went and a split happened.
I couldn’t cover and I had no idea who was up there or how many were 1-2s.
I settled in with Sue, Nikki, Mary and a VA Beach woman. We
picked up Michelle on the way. Kelley was with us for a bit but she was having
trouble shifting due to frozen fingers. It was raining for reals and the
temperature was dropping. Coming across the line, we were advised that our race
was cut short by a lap. We had a nice paceline going (side note - it’s amazing
to me how many people in higher categories that don’t know the basics of
pacelining) and had the lead group in sight coming to the first turn. I think
they saw us and accelerated. Or maybe they just accelerated. Either way, that
was the last time we saw them.
We had been working well together but once we made that
first turn and the lead group was gone, one girl attacked our group and went
into the wind by herself. Not sure what that was about so we let her dangle out
there for a while, catching her before the end of the downhill. The wind had
picked up and I was starting to lose feeling in my right thumb. Random, I know.
There wasn’t much talking, just pedaling. We all knew we had
one more lap to go and had settled into that special place you go when you’re
suffering; you know there is an end but you have to get there.
I was sitting second wheel coming up to what we thought
would be the bell-lap. About 50meters from the line someone on the side of the
road shouts “YOU’RE FINISHING NOW!!!” The other girls hesitated a half second.
I dumped two gears and stood up to get to the line first. And, I did.
The lead group had 4 women in my category, so I scored 5th.
Kelley came just behind our group to grab 9th in our category. Funny, most races SOMEONE would get all uppity about paying for a full race and
getting cut short. The general consensus was that we wish we had some more
warning but THANK YOU.
The
next race was to get out of wet clothing. Riding back to the school was torture
after going super hard for the finish and abruptly stopping. I left my bike
where anyone could take it if they wanted, my car was left unlocked and my most
valuable possession at this point was dry clothing. The girls bathroom looked
like a locker room, with racers peeling out of wet layers as fast as possible. Afterward, I sat on the bench
near registration with Kelley. Brittany and Dana – both smarter and warmer for
not racing – tried to warm us up. I must’ve looked pretty bad; I was worried about Kelley but the EMT kept checking on me. It took a solid 45mins to stop
violently shivering. The smartest thing I had done all day was to ask for late
checkout. Once I could be trusted to drive, I quickly loaded up my bike
(thankfully still there) and went back to the hotel for a glorious hot shower.
Thank you to those who helped take care of the
near-hypothermic riders. For me, that was Dana, Brittany and Cheryl.
In the end, this wasn’t a race strictly on fitness or
strength.
It was all about survival.
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