Fort Ritchie - Where I was almost a Champion

This weekend's Masters Championship race was sparsely attended by the women. In total, the 35+ and 45+ field had 7 pre-registered and 2 day of. One of the pre-registrants couldn't make it so we were still a tiny field.

It's a fun course and the weather was darn near perfect for a fast race while working on the bike-tan lines. The thing about such a small field, there's really nowhere to hide and you don't get a line of riders to latch on should you blow yourself up at the front and drop back.

Dana was in the 45+ racing against two Colavita riders, Tania and I were racing for the 35+ jersey against Mary from NCVC, who is on fire right now, Tsahai from Artemis and a relatively unknown Stacy Jensen with an out-of-district team.

Dana went from the gun while I had what might have been my worst start ever. I couldn't clip in, nearly impaled myself on the top tube when my foot slipped and then killed myself to catch up as our small field crested the initial rise in the course. I realized that I was in the small ring - which explained why I was spinning out trying to catch back on - about halfway down the hill into the last turn. I guess that's one way to start a race. Sheesh.

We settled into a pretty good pace with some attacks from Colavita and NCVC but I was successful to stay around 3rd wheel most of the time. Dana launched a couple of times and I would counter but to be honest, no one wanted to do that course alone with the headwind on the backside. I saw others make attacks and noted that attacking into the wind didn't work because everyone would come together with the downhill into the turn. It seemed like a lot of jockying for shelter but no one was able to sit in.

While we kept the pace pretty solid, it was still a relatively uneventful race with the exception of the beer primes. Those prompted some momentum but it normally fizzled out by the first turn. A prime was called with 4-to-go so coming to the line the speed picked up. I had planned on countering the prime but was a little bit out of position so I charged past the line with everyone else, picking off spots. There was a melee behind me and I found out it was my teammate, Tania, that went down. They neutralized us with 2-to-go as the ambulance had to get on course to help Tania. I have some pretty gruesome pictures of her helmet that Phil sent out - definitely a good "wear your helmet" campaign message. Thankfully she is ok and home, healing with plenty of road rash.

The Chief Ref had us spin around while we waited and let us know that they would start us with a neutral lap and then we'll be on for 2-to-go.

Starting what amounts to a sprint race is always tricky - everyone has lost the rhythm of the race and we're all a bit twitchy, trying to organize our respective plans of attack. We got going neutral and then got the whistle to go for reals. Kind of. Going around the backside no one wanted to take the wind so it slowed down a tick. Come into the bell lap and we started jockeying for position. Dana took a flyer on the backside but we were catching her as we went into the downhill. I knew this was now or never so I dropped a gear and flew up the inside. For a second I thought I might have gone too late and would run out of real estate before the turn but I came through clean, leaned into the turn and immediately straightened up to start my sprint. YES. You read that right. I actually sprinted.

I threw everything I had into it, running to the line and no one was passing me. I saw the red tape and heard a wheel coming around me. Stacy just out sprinted me for the win. Dana came in on my right, winning her category. I was pretty happy with myself. While I didn't win, I knew I had a good race.

Then the drama. I was informed that I had won the jersey. Stacy is not in a club in our district and, to be honest, I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. Dana and I BOTH won jerseys. Yay!

Not so fast.

The MABRA rules changed in the last couple of years. Unlike VCA, where you have to be a member of a club in good standing, anyone who is of age can come in, take the championship and maybe dip in sometime next year. Apparently you don't have to be associated with MABRA at all to win the championship. You can simply have an address in a certain zip code zone and you are eligible. How does that encourage people to be a part of a club or encourage clubs to bother to pay dues and promote races?

As we were waiting for the ruling as to who actually got the jersey, she actually said "I don't care about the jersey, just give me the payout". Don't get me wrong, I have raced with her in other venues and I have nothing against her at all. Yeah, she won the race, all well and good. But she's not MABRA. She's not going to represent MABRA. Her club does not promote races in MABRA, nor do they pay MABRA dues. She DOESN'T CARE about the jersey, does that not say enough??  Is THAT who you want to call your "Champion"?

What was a great race for me pretty much turned into an emotional rollercoaster. It was a tiny race of 8 people but it meant something and now it represents something different. I never ask for anything to be handed to me but this is completely unfair and unsupportive of those who support you, MABRA.

I suppose this is where someone will say "too bad, life isn't fair".

Whatever.

Richmond Road Race Ramblings

Richmond Road Race – Women’s Open + Juniors

12:20pm start, 44miles

After an evening of recovery from Meadows Farms with Chuck and Dana, a later start to the day was much appreciated. 

Some of our guys in the early races were just finishing when I arrived at Ashland Berry Farm. The weather was gorgeous and no matter the finish, the guys were smiling. Talking about what a great course it was. Raving about the superiority of this experience over our multitude of war stories at Bike Jam. To tell the truth, I was feeling quite smug myself for having chosen this venue to spend my $$ and my legs on. 

I considered Meadows Farm to be my openers for the day; my warm up was with Michele pedaling around the roads near the start. Near enough that we were close to coming head-on in the wrong direction as the big-boys rolled out. Oops. 

The course starts off with a nice little downhill into a false flat (you know how much I hate that term but it conveys the point), into some rollers and fun, twisty roads. A little kicker at about 11miles, more fun rollers and a final hill before the 2mile run in to the finish. Beautiful roads, one tight turn where the road on the left kind of just disappears and crossing rail road tracks 4 times. Two 22-mile laps was our race. 

We had a pretty good field both in numbers and in strength. My first mental hurdle was rolling out from a gravel drive – as I was making the right turn on to the road I’m certain the look on my face was one of horror as I imagined wiping out before I even got started. This is what happens in my head …it’s a scary place. 

The rolling enclosure was MONEY – without that, we might have had another abomination like the women’s race at All American this year. No one really wanted to put themselves out into the wind so a few ladies set the pace and everyone else jockeyed for wheels. There was no attempt to get away but we did try to keep a decent pace. I knew everyone was just waiting for the final hill. It was a bit scary at times with girls not paying attention or trying to push each other off wheels. I found myself out in the wind more than I’d like but it was much less stressful than being between two bad bike handlers. 

As expected, the strong girls pushed the pace on the hill, which turned out to be a stair-step. The pack managed to make it up mostly together on the first step but all hell broke loose on the second pitch. I was in a bad position going in – it didn’t look so good for me at that point. I almost gave up but latched on to another girl chasing and went into greyhound-rabbit mode. I managed claw my way back to the pack … and then there were 12. 

To be honest, I was just happy with myself for not giving up. As most of you know, I’m recovering from a stretch of bad luck in training and racing so this was huge for me. We quickly organized into a paceline. The goal was to make sure we didn’t get caught. The Moto was giving us splits which stayed steady around 30-37 seconds for a while. Suddenly the rubber band broke and it shot up to over a minute. We didn’t get splits after that. Everyone worked fairly well, no one tried the “sit up and take a drink” move to skip a pull and once we settled in, we had a hard, fast pace going. 

As with the prior lap, I knew the charge was going to be up the hill. I also knew I was tired. The finish was looming. We made the turn to go up the hill and the charge went. I stood up to go and just as quickly sat back down when my legs argued with me about the effort. I couldn’t tell how many went up the road but as another girl tried to pass me, I resolved that I wasn’t done yet. (channel Monty Python – I’m not dead yet!)

I set my sights on two girls in front of me and caught them. I sat on for a second to breathe and then jumped past them, making sure they couldn’t follow. Two more were up the road, I caught them as well. Erin came flying by and the girls latched on to her but fell off after a few pedal strokes. I knew this was my ride to the line, so I threw it all down to pass them and close the gap. I took a short pull once I caught her but didn’t have much left – the finish came into sight and she sprinted for the line. I like to think she was afraid I’d sprint past her but she was probably just practicing the sprint with tired legs. 

Turns out, 5 were up the road, Erin made 6 which put me 7^th. 

Fun course, great group of girls to ride with and definitely on the calendar to do next year. Yeah, I’m pretty happy with my choice of race courses this weekend.

A Late Jefferson Cup 2014 Survival Report

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 5^th. Kelley came just behind our group to grab 9^th 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.