Humbled….

A week ago Sunday we headed for Dalton, MA for a XC mountain bike race put on by none other than North Atlantic Velo. What a swell team! The day threatened rain, but we danced between the clouds and basked in the low 60’s.

The venue was really interesting, with pigs and chickens next to the port-o-potties, mosquitoes the size of helicopters, and a super fun technical figure eight race course with an over-under bridge. The pro women were designated four 8 mile laps of grueling mud, tricky climbs and troll harboring tree roots. It was going to be a war of stamina.

This would have been a great race course to pre-ride, but with the major moving transition going on in our lives it was not a possibility. I did ride the first mile of the course for my race warm-up. But it did not help me very much. After we were sent off the start line, I stumbled my way through the first mile causing some pile-ups. Too much adrenaline and the first time this season I was mentally checked in to a race I was bouncing off everything and taking bad lines and clogged the trail. I professed numerous apologies and was having flashbacks of getting frustrated with people who have done the same in front of me at races. Very humbling….. Anyhow, I finally finished the first full lap doing a lot of self-cheering and managing to ride things I would not have attempted a few weeks ago-like taking root-filled descents at crazy speeds and kicking my back wheel around some hair pins.

The second lap was much easier. Mary Lynn, one of the other racers, and I were frequently swapping places. I am enjoying meeting the east coast contingent of racers. These ladies are no slouches. I kept a steady pace and was actually glad that this was a longer race. After hopping on for my third lap and scrambling my way up the greasy root laden hike-a-bike hill, Mary Lynn was not to be found. Alone, I was talking to myself like a newly discharged mental patient without meds. I knew I needed to maintain a good pace because it is easy when I am on the trail all by myself to kick back and just take in the day and forget that it is a race. Steve was at one of the turns yelling to me, “Last lap! You’re doing great!” I guess I forgot to tell him that we were doing FOUR not three laps. I caught up with some other racers struggling up the grassy hill. One guy said, “You’re almost finished!” I am not sure if he was talking to me or himself since he was walking his bike. But I hope I made him feel better when I told him I had another lap.

As I rolled through to take my fourth and final lap, I felt that pang in my stomach when I am about to bonk. I was nervous. I knew I could maintain my consistent pace for the last lap. The growl in my stomach grew to a roar. I was becoming delirious. I could not remember if I had been through certain sections of the race course or not and I started bouncing off of roots again. Thankfully, the feed zone was at the mid-point of the lap, so I was able to snag some juice and a gel to tide me over. I gobbled my sugary snacks when what I really craved was a sandwich. I kept it moving and rolled across the finish line before they packed up the official’s tent.

I came in fourth place. And I later found out that racers were being pulled if they did not complete laps in a certain time frame. I was so jazzed that I did not get pulled. Woohoo! I have deep pockets of endurance – now I need to add some speed to the equation.