Race Report

There are two words I didn't know I'd ever put together again: race report! I hardly feel the race last Sunday is something giving the blow-by-blow on, but the fact that last Sunday happened is what is significant.

Last week was full of fear-facing. I stared it in the face and saw who flinched. Not I. Er, well, outwardly I didn't. Inside was a different story, as it always is. Facing fears doesn't mean not being afraid, but getting through it and, hopefully, feeling less the next time.

Last summer of racing Italian Gran Fondos never felt quite the same as racing an American criterium. They were so much fun, but there wasn't much fear of getting dropped or of not doing well as neither of those two things could ever happen. If that's confusing, I'll explain offline, but it's true.

Racing a men's criterium (cat 3/4 men, mostly) is a whole other scenario. I used to train really hard to feel ready to take on such a race. Granted, training hard often meant resting well. I didn't train too hard, but how many intervals were there when I used to train for real? Last weekend, I went into the race with the prep of many fun rides with friends. Maybe it's all of the rollers here that are what added up to be good training, who knows. But it's been ages since I've done a real training ride or a set of intervals.

It's compelling to write this only because I've found it really fun to go back to the earliest entries in this blog and read them. My experiences from racing and training (this includes the fun rides!) have added so much to my life throughout the years, it's nice to capture the moments and how I'm thinking about them as they're happening. Memory does change the story somewhat.

The long and short of the race is this: my goal going into the race was to not get dropped. When I'm scared of getting dropped, I ride like a maniac to stay up front so my position was pretty good most of the race. They called a women's prime (meaning only women could contend to win it) and I used that as drag-race-sprint practice. Too bad there was a girl on my wheel who was able to pull around me. But at that point, we were way off the front of the field. So I kept going. Yeah, I know that wasn't smart, I wasn't trying to race smart. I will attempt that when there are real prizes at stake (more than a muffin, though they looked tasty). If there's one thing my coach taught me that has served well is that when it's not an "A" race, experiment. An attack group came up after a lap and, digging deep, I caught onto their train. We weren't away too long and the field caught up. Around and around we went, each lap was short with only a small rise in the road and hardly a corner to worry about. There were attacks and at times I would catch onto a small break. Even went to the front and pulled. (I know that's not smart racing, but the guys were yelling at the people at the front to pull, so I thought it would be amusing to play along with their request).

The race ended (1 hr long, avg 24 mph) with staying safe and finishing in the first third to half (have no idea where, exactly). The point was, I am back racing and it feels very good to be back, though this time, I am committed to keeping a much better balance. Balance: some racing, lots of fun rides with friends, time in street clothes doing good things in work and life. This is what I need and it just so also happens to be my definition of happiness.