Catching Up

What are long flights good for besides writing race reports? I have at least three races to write about but really don't feel up to reliving them. They've all gone pretty much the same: goals have been to ride hard, not get lapped and try not to come in last. I'm setting the bar pretty low these days while racing with the big girls. Sad, but there it is.

Wrentham was fun in the way that cx can be fun. It was hard, my bike was shifting like crap, the start was almost a pile up on the sandy first right turn, but the MRC boys are always a fun crowd. Plus, Frank was in town and she's a total cowbell queen. Someone complimented me on the fact that I could do the log better than some of the guys and true, I did feel smooth coming through that section. Post-race beers, cigars and chocolate milk (how weird is that?) with the Colombian and Frank was thoroughly entertaining. So I had fun, didn't get lapped and didn't come in last.

This past Saturday was the race at Plymouth North. I'm getting a little tired of that course - it just kind of bores me. As I was waiting for one of the earlier races to finish so I could jump on the course for a pre-ride, I saw Mo pull into the parking lot. I thought to myself, there goes my goal of not getting lapped. I was hoping Mo wouldn't be going all out and saving something for the bigger race in NJ the next day.

The race itself was uneventful. I definitely rode stronger than last year and when I heard them announcing the bell lap for Mo, I was much further ahead than I was the previous year when I saw the stars and stripes jersey of the leader catching me. So again, not lapped and not last.

Finally, Sunday's race, also in Plymouth was at Plymouth South. Now, THAT is a course. Loved it. 3 big climbs, 2 smaller ones, some mud, some single track, some sand, some sucky soggy grass. It rocked and it killed me. I purposely hung back a little at the start as I didn't want to mix it up with the fast girls and get in their way on the first twisty section. By the time I hit the dirt path around the soccer field, I was in last place (uh oh, there's goes one of my goals!) but sticking to the wheel in front of me which seemed like a good idea given the huge wind. Right before we went into the woods before the hill behind the bleachers, I was feeling like the pace the woman in front was setting was just a tad too slow. Decided it would be a good idea to get into the woods in front of her, so pushed to get around her, and never saw her again.

To illustrate just how slow I am compared to these girls, the winner's time was about 45 min which was about 9 min per lap. I was averaging a hair under 11 min per lap. ~sigh. In fact, as I came through the end of lap 4, one official gave me the bell and another yelled, "You can finish now if you want and I'll place you!". NFW. If I'm going to suffer, you bet I'm going to do it big time. Give me more, baby! So I headed out for yet another lap which I think was my fastest (go figure) and I actually felt the best. It also helped that I had a bit of adrenaline going since I wanted to make sure they didn't start the mens pro field just as I was heading through the finish line. Wouldn't that have been a huge cluster%$#@. Or more embarrassing, the announcer saying, "Sorry folks, we're going to have to delay the start of the men's race while we wait for one last woman to drag her sorry ass across the line." ~sigh. It was bad enough that when I finished, he said something like, "There's Teri Carilli finishing up the race. She didn't have to do that last lap. In cross there's two ways to finish a race, both are good." I wasn't sure what he meant by that. Despite achieving both goals, not lapped and not last (well, last finisher, two women chose to DNF instead), I felt like I did at Nationals, exhausted, frustrated and ready to cry. Slapped myself upside the helmet, remembered that somehow in all of this, it was still fun and I'm incredibly lucky to be out there doing what I'm doing at all. So it's all good.