I went into the race in good riding shape, but not exactly in racing shape. Just like a football player who transitions into basketball and suffers through the first week of practice when the need for quick bursts of power and speed change to endurance, I sort of suffered today. Mine was backwards of the previous example. I could ride for hours if the pace was long and slow (thanks to all the training for the Tour de Pink when the name of the game was saddle time), but quick bursts of speed and power weren't quite there when I called for them.
Here's the recap:
As much as I wanted to race in the open category (these are the fastest of the fast and include any pro riders who are racing and any racer who has topped out in Cat 1), I knew better. They had a great turnout with about 8 riders total. They were riding 4 laps (5.8 miles per lap, with a heck of a lot of hard climbing).
Since I have yet to win a Cat 1 race, I knew Cat 1 would be the wisest choice, even though there were only 3 of us and it's always more fun when you have a bigger field. There was a little confusion as to if our group was doing 3 or 4 laps. The race flyer didn't quite specify, the TMBRA forum said 4, and I could have sworn the guy at the start said 3. Instead of clarifying like I should have, I was relieved at the shorter distance and just got ready for the start whistle.
From the gun Amy was in front, I was chasing in second, and Lisa was close behind me. Several times I could see Amy, so I kept pushing even though my legs and back were protesting and kept threash-holding out on the numerous steep climbs. After the first lap, which took right at 40 minutes, she was only about 30 seconds ahead. My "race strategy" was to catch her in the second lap, then push a lead in the final go around. Since I hadn't pre-ridden the course (I did a virtual pre-ride via youtube), the first lap I had to be a little cautious. Nonetheless, I did go over my handlebars on a tight, downhill switchback. Aside from a strawberry on my knee and a few scratches, I was fine. I popped back onto my bike and kept riding, no time to speak of lost.
My pace on the second lap was a couple of minutes slower. Although I had the benefit of knowing the course now, my body couldn't find a faster pace (most races are 2 longer laps instead of 3 or 4 shorter ones and my second lap is usually faster than my first). My husband and bro-in-law and their parents had all come to the race and were giving me the splits as they handed me water in the feed station. After 2 laps, the gap had doubled and I was a minute behind the leader. Reality and my slow-twitch muscles were telling me that this might not be my day, but I told myself to keep pedaling nonetheless. There are always factors you have to take into account when you are chasing: the rider(s) in front could have a delay like a crash or flat that could cause them to lose time, and, if you resign to second and slow down your pace, you could easily get caught by the one(s) behind you and find yourself off the podium.
At the beginning of the third lap, I remember thinking, "Thank God this is my last lap." And on the brutal uphill switchbacks close to the end, "I'm so glad this is the last time I'll see these." I also once again reflected on how incredibly good the open/pro ladies are who not only ride longer distances, but sometimes at crushing paces.
Somewhere during the third lap I knew I wasn't going to catch Amy. My pace was slowing and my riding was getting sloppy. (This can be a bit unnerving on a course with fast, loose, technical downhill sections. You have to be really careful to find the balance of going all out to try and catch someone or win and making sure you come home in one piece. Two guys today left with broken collar bones, even though one of them happened within the first 100 meters on flat ground.)
I had a small burst of energy midway through when I heard my husband's voice through the trees cheering for me. He, Andrew, Buzzy, and Carolyn had walked down a little ways and gave me a push. With the toughest climbing at the end of the lap, I mustered all my energy into trying to make it to the finish line. Mentally, one of the greatest feelings during a race is when you are about 100 yards from the end. A big relief comes over you and you give it all you have left to sprint it in.
After I crossed the welcomed finish line, I looked for Amy to tell her congratulations but couldn't find her. Andrew asked me if I was sure we were only doing 3 laps because Amy had kept going and was on her fourth. Too tired to go ask about it (and not wanting to hear that I still had a lap left), I visited with Aaron and Andrew some before they headed out for a lap of their own and then with Buzzy, Carolyn and other racers.
Turns out I was supposed to do 4 laps. Oops. Originally the scorers listed me as first place (I even got a "Congratulations, Brenda!! You killed it!) because, obviously, my time was the fastest... I had only done 3/4 of the race. HeHe. Since the payout was only for the winner (yes, I am motivated by money when I race. I'm always content if I can recover the $35 entry fee and maybe a little gas money), and since this was the only race of the series I was doing so overall points didn't matter, I was perfectly content to finish "third" after a 2:04 and 18 mile race. Even though I'm competitive, there are days and races where the joy of riding a bike and hanging out in an awesome biking community, and finishing in one piece, are purely enough. And...any race where family is there with you is icing on the cake.
When Aaron and Andrew returned from their ride, we all went to Rudy's for BBQ and then said our see you laters. Buzzy and Carolyn headed for Abilene, Andrew back to Austin, and Aaron and I north to Fort Worth. I'm so thankful for my family and husband. And I'm thankful for any day that I get to do what I love.
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