It was
raining for my first triathlon, my first post-high school 5k, my graduation,
and every first day of the semester for the past six years; therefore it is
only fitting that my first cycling race this past weekend was met with chilly
temperatures and a torrential downpour (needless to say, I will not be planning
an outdoor wedding when that time comes).
After effectively avoiding a crossover from triathlon into cycling
(admittedly my strongest of the three sports)for the past few years, I was
finally talked into a 21 mile road race in Williamsburg, Virginia during my
most recent trip to visit Ian (hey – if he was willing to fly my bike, I
suppose I was willing to race it).
Going into
the race, I was a little nervous. I was
terrified of tight formations, sprints and surges (not my strong point), and
remembering the etiquette of road racing.
However, I tried to avoid expectations and simply enjoy myself. Lined up at the start line, it was pretty
obvious that this crowd doesn’t see a whole lot of new faces in the female
divisions (I don’t think I’ve been hit on that much since 2007 when I was the
token blonde girl in a small Italian village) which helped to distract me and
calm my nerves a little. During the roll
out, I did my best to lay low and settle into the pack and to then find a
position near (but not at) the front once the real race started – I did NOT
want to establish myself as the newbie triathlete who was willing to pull
everyone for 20 miles only to get destroyed at the finish.
Obviously this is one of the men's races,
but you can see how beautiful the day and road conditions were.
After about
five or six miles, however, I started getting bored. Realizing I was at a conversational pace and
that most of the group was still together in one pack, I surged ahead and took
the lead. At this moment, I had major
delusions of grandeur. I pictured myself
riding away from the pack and finishing the race minutes ahead of the rest in a
wave of glory. Unfortunately, when I
surged ahead, about half of the group went with me. After about 5-6 more miles, we entered our
second loop and a few girls flew past me.
Suddenly, the game of draft legal cycling started to get fun. Surging ahead to catch them, the ride became
as much tactical as speed (which was only magnified by the fact that the rain
now made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of you). As we neared the finish, I used all any
knowledge of draft legal racing that had been spewed at me by Ian over the last
year and took a spot near (but not at) the front of the pack. Finally, the finish line was in view. With the final stretch on an incline, I had a
distinct advantage over the sea-level girls and I sprinted my booty off across
the line. Much to my surprise, I looked
around and realized I had come in first place among the cat 3-4 women!
After
soft-peddling back to the car, I quickly changed into dry clothes and collected
my winnings (a leftover William and Mary Cycling sweatshirt – best prize ever
because it helped warm me up). I was
tired, freezing, hungry, and hooked. After coffee and iHop breakfast, my elevated spirits were even higher! Did
I probably get lucky in placing as well as I did? Yes, definitely. Does it matter? No. I
had an absolute blast and enjoyed the adventure of stepping out of my box a
little (because learning to drive stick shift this week and proceeding to do so
by myself in rush hour Virginia traffic wasn’t enough of an adventure). I’m sure I’ll never just transition to being “just”
a cyclist – I get bored way too easily; but I think I’ve found a new and fun
way to race/train during the off season.
I’ve already started searching for some Colorado road races and can’t
wait to get back out there!
You get some great looks in the airport when flying with
your bike, suitcase, carry-on, and guitar. Oof!
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