Can you believe I gave up a weekend preriding in Downieville to be a road racer? I know, I feel sheepish even admitting to it. I just felt so fed up with a lack of progress in mountain biking fitness that I needed something new. What do they say about the definition of crazy? "Doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results." I feel like I've been training the same way for six months and haven't made much progress. So it's time to shake things up, and I started with Pescadero. I decided to keep rolling on that ball and signed up for the Red Peloton criterium in Santa Rosa. Yes, the same weekend as a massive Downieville preride, but we have to make sacrifices with the bigger picture in mind. Racing these road races is a last minute effort to boost and peak my fitness before nationals.
Another 3/4 race--means riding with the big girls. I never realized I'd be racing with my incredibly fantastic teammate Karena Shannon. In case you hadn't heard, she is a force to be reckoned with--she has power, speed, and prowess. I knew the game would be "drop the fours", a very intelligent practice to keep the race safe. Unfortunately for me, I'm a four. From the beginning I'd be chasing. This is my second criterium {technically third if you count one of the Early Bird crits} and my goals for the day are simple: 1) don't crash 2) anticipate the jumps 3) finish with the pack and don't get dropped.
Karena never ceases to amaze me. From the gun, she is off the front, setting the tone for the race. The entire field and I are chasing her through turns. Going into the second lap she slackens the pace a tad--just enough to let us to form a group. That doesn't last long. I have the slightest amount of time to catch my breath before Karena launches another attack. This will be the name of the game today. She sits, perched, hidden amongst the riders, at least eight wheels back. When least expected she comes out of the paceline and drives up the side all the way to the front, like a freight train. In true form she hauls us all around the course for another lap before letting off the gas.
At this point I'm gasping for air. The only thoughts are don't get dropped, don't get dropped. I learn how to pedal through turns. I find my gearing {thanks Furman}. As I ride the turns I search for a wheel to follow. It's incredibly hard to sit in and rest, as there aren't many riders and we ride single file. I sit in the wind. I don't give up though. I begin to wonder how much more I can take. I am at max capacity. Luckily the lap cards say two to go. I think back to the Merco criterium. I remember that at three laps to go we would still have time. In that race I missed the moment. That single moment that defines a field sprint race--when the pack accelerates and your placing will dictate the finale of your race. I refused to let this race pan out the same way. A few of the the threes had already broken off the front--however there were enough of us willing to work and keep pushing. Instead of waiting for that moment to happen, I jumped. Luckily the timing was right, and the girls around me had thought the same thing. We are all racing together towards the leaders.
Coming around the final turn I had the presence of mind {I'm not really sure how, as I was clearly in oxygen deprivation mode} to sprint. I sprinted for some midpack placing. It's the principle that matters. The principle says you always sprint and you always finish strong. Looking at my heart rate post race I hit an all time high--193 BPM as I came through the finish line. I finished 11th out of 20 racers. It was a ball.
