Urban Racing: NMBS#1 Southridge 5/6/2006

The USA National Mountain Bike Series kicked off at Southridge Park in Fontana, CA. I was happy that for this race I would not have to travel far. Sleeping in my own bed, eating out of my own refrigerator and not having to wonder what a stain on the floor is from are just a few of the perks of not having to stay in a hotel.

One would think that a race close to the home turf would be a plus. However, I am not fond of the Southridge Park race course. Fontana (or “Fontucky” a name the local mountain bikers jokingly call the area) is also not a vacation destination – unless of course you just got out of jail. I think the city has been featured on the TV show Cops on more than one occasion and it was evident why on race day. While I was warming up for the 3 lap/21 mile course I had to move my trainer set-up because a group of people decided that the park was an optimum place to do drugs. Not cool.

My warm-up went fairly well and I rolled over to the start line and waited for the announcer to call up each racer. Since I have just started out on the pro circuit, my rankings do not allow for a good spot on the start line. I was located way in the back. I knew it was going to take some work to get around the racers because the start of the course was narrow with tight turns for at least the first half mile until it opened up on the short pavement hill climb.

Just as we were sent off, there was a wreck. A bunch of ladies crashed and went down to my left. I motored around them trying to stay with the front pack as best as I possibly could. Then we approached the short sandy steep 50 foot climb that a lot of women lost momentum on and fell off their bikes. Unfortunately, one racer who was falling decided to grab on to my bike and knock me off. I had to “ask” her to get off my bike. I was not pleased.

The first gauntlet was completed and I tried to find a rhythm. Little did I realize until days, ok honestly a week later, that I was thoroughly burned out. I have been racing steady since February without much of a break and I was having a very difficult time finding the energy to will myself through the race. I really wanted to be excited because this was my first NORBA event as a pro.

Anyhow, for the first lap of the course it was a question of whether or not I was going to be able to finish. I have quit one race in my entire career of racing and it was because my bike was busted. Even though I have a pact with myself to finish every race that I start no matter what, I felt myself sliding to the dark side. But I pushed the demons aside and fought my way through the first seven miles.

For the second lap, I felt much better. The course was getting pretty beat up and some of the sandy sections on the first lap had huge ruts in them by the second pass, becoming unrideable. I was working hard to maintain a good pace. It felt good to have my husband out there cheering me on and giving me nice cold water bottles to keep me cool as the temperature continued to rise during the mid-day race. The pro men who were sent off before the women were starting to lap the women’s field. These guys need to give the Expert and Sport men racers lessons on manners during a race. The pro men were polite and did not try to run me off the trail when they wanted to make a pass. Yet, on this lap, it was a little unsettling going through a section of the course where paintballers congregate. Not only had they dragged an old car tire onto the course, but they were shooting their guns making me wonder if I was going to catch a paintball in the rump. It was even more unnerving when a band of them were marching up the fire road with huge paintball rifles all dressed in black.

Relief started overwhelming my body as I headed out for my third lap. I knew I was going to finish. That was the goal. I started to relax mentally, but my body was less forgiving. I started getting tight in my hamstrings and calves. Rolling through the pain was much easier than stopping because if I stopped it would be awhile before I would be able to get back on my bike again. I kept drinking water and ate an energy gel. I crashed several times going through rutted out sandy sections. These were great spots to go down since it was a fairly soft landing except the one that knocked the wind out of me. Once I made it through all the major climbs and I was on the home stretch, I grabbed my water bottle for one last guzzle.

On the fast straight away, with only ten minutes left in the race, I was desperately trying to maintain speed while putting my water bottle back in its cage on my bike. All of a sudden I was sliding down the hard packed gravel and sand next to the chain link fence on my right side, whacking my head hard. I rolled a few times telling myself to keep my eyes open and stay awake. I did not want to pass out. My tools had been tossed out of my jersey’s back pockets and I was bleeding-at that point I was not sure from where. I knew I had to get back on my bike fast before I had time to think about what had happened otherwise I would have been frozen my pain. So many racers passed me and only one guy asked me if I was ok but did not wait for an answer and kept going. I was too dazed to be mad.

I got back on the bike and tried to pedal only to find out that I had to get back off to put my chain on. Holding it together to the finish line I found Steve, my hubby, who took me to the first aid station. It was more than just ice packs at this first aid tent. The San Bernardino paramedics were very nice and did a great job. I cracked them up when they asked what happened by responding “I was just riding along…doin’ nothin’… and then there was these two dudes…” (If you have worked in a hospital emergency room, as a police officer or as a paramedic it is imperative to find the “two dudes” responsible for all the mayhem and figure out what “really” happened.)

After assessing the damage, my bike held up and I was full of cuts, scrapes and bruises. I had a good amount of road rash on my shin, hip and my entire right arm with a serious wound on the knee. My knee looked like I landed on an egg slicer. The worse part was getting home to thoroughly clean up. It took over an hour to get all the dirt out of my knee. The best part was that nothing was broken. Even better, I finished 46th out of more than 60 racers even with my terrible crash I was not last!

Sadly, I was in no shape to compete in the Short Track race the following day. Now I am almost healed. I am down to one small band aid and one big one for my knee. It probably would have healed sooner if I had not crashed on the same knee a week later. I think I see a knee guard in my future so I can get back on the mountain bike again.