"This is 10 percent luck, 20 percent skill
15 percent concentrated power of will
5 percent pleasure, 50 percent pain
And 100 percent reason to remember the name"
Lyrics from Fort Minor's Remember The Name
There's something nice about Nationals coming in December. For me, it is the crescendo of the cycling season. Then there's the fact that it's followed by all the reflections, introspections and resolutions of the New Year.
Early last year, I made a decision to give up being a relatively successful runner (at least in age group competition) and focus on cycling. I even took a page out of my eleven year old niece's playbook and put up a list of refrigerator goals. The ultimate goal was to improve my finish at Nationals to the top 10 in my age group race. Funny looking back on those goals now. I did "Stick with the plan" but got swept off my feet (literally) so much by mt biking that I ditched the crits and roadraces. But anyway....I digress...this is supposed to be about Nationals.
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OMG! I drive a MINI - I can't drive that beast not to mention I'd feel like someone who goes out and clubs baby seals. Geez.... S and PFFC laughed their butts off when they saw me pull up in that thing.
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Since C fro LA would also be joining us, we had booked a suite at the Great Wolf Lodge. We were pretty speechless (and not in a good way) as we walked into the hotel lobby. I knew going in that it was a family hotel geared for kids but I don't think I expected the singing moose heads, the daily snow storm at 3pm, Santa's visit every day and a host of other events. The place was certainly fine and I know all my nieces and nephews would have loved the indoor water park.
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Next day, my race was at 1pm. Plan was to eat breakfast and get to the venue in time to pre-ride at noon. Breakfast at IHop - bad idea. At least for me. Not my kind of food. Lesson #32: don't change your pre-race eating habits before an important race. You'd think I'd have learned that especially after hearing about Andy blowing his egg mcmuffin at the MRC race.
The course was totally different on Friday and challenging in a whole other way. All the melting from the day before had resulted in frozen mud ruts that would grab your front wheel. Interspersed with the frozen mud ruts in the shade were long stretches of peanut butter mud that I felt were trying to suck the rubber off my rims. And then there were what appeared to be areas of peanut butter mud that in reality were frozen. That led to unexpected and fun jarring. Last but not least, there were slick patches of ice on either side of the narrow brown ribbon of best line through the course. That would make passing interesting.
I had a second row start for this race which worried me a bit given the condition of the course. I was anticipating girls going down on the first turn/downhill-uphill ditch off the pavement and didn't want to get caught behind that. Punched it at the whistle and floored it to get to the front. I arrived at the first turn about 5th or 6th and one of the first women on the dirt biffed it as expected. I changed my line last minute to avoid running her over and that was just enough to cause my rear wheel to slide in the mud and I was down. 45 sec into the race and I was already eating dirt. Wah. Got back on and started passing people again. I actually rode the mud and gunk better than many (yeah, mtb skills). I think the key for this race was to stay on the bike, ride hard but not on the crazy edge because each time I pushed it, I face planted. Case in point: coming off the long off camber section I was trailing a woman I had been trying to get ahead of for a while. The MRC guys were cheering like crazy for me, "Make a move, Teri! Make a move!" Inspired by their yelling, I decide to leave the narrow brown ribbon of safety and pass her. As I climbed out of the saddle, I realized I had picked a lousy point to pass. I was on ice, the bike flipped sideways hard and I did a superman slide on my stomach in the mud. (MRC boys yelled, "Not that move!" Yeah, I kinda figured. Thanks.) Lesson #17: Don't listen to everything the spectators yell.
As the course was more and more turned up, I found it was easier to get traction on the edges. This was fine except it also meant one ran the risk of catching the tape. At one point where I was actually keeping up some good speed, my right brake caught the course tape. Damn - those stakes were in good because my bike stopped instantly and I flew over the handlebars. This time landing hard on my back and sliding a bit. At least I was getting symmetrical mud stains on my jersey. Similarly, while making a tight right hand turn onto the off camber section to take the high line, I caught my right foot on a stake. Didn't fall but got hung up enough for people to pass me. In each fall mishap, a woman or two would pass. I felt like I was falling further and further behind. Then last time over the barriers, my chain got stuck between the spokes and the cassette. Took 30 seconds or so to free that. I was so angry by then, though, I caught two more women.
By the time I crossed the line, I was sure I was in last place. I was completely exhausted. I tried not to sob. All year, worked hard, came in last. I suck. And my head really hurt from one of the falls where I really smacked my helmet hard. S was there at the finish telling me I had did great. Wasn't sure which race she had been watching.
In retrospect, I had been riding in about 5th place for much of the race. Had I raced a little more carefully and stayed on the bike, I could have stayed there. Looking back at the pics, I was even ahead of a woman in the age group that went off before us. The disparity between my perception and reality is really quite shocking to me. I didn't look at the results until I was at dinner that evening. Totally shocked to discover I came in 10th. Next year, top 5. Year after that: 1. Remember the name. It's a new year - may as well put those goals out there.
And congrats to my teammates who took the Stars and Stripes jerseys (go Julie and Libby!) and Cris taking #2 and Sally 3. NEBC women rock!
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