Losing Focus at PIR

I like to talk about my race experience each week. Maybe I will like writing about it too. Here’s how the race went down for me. I warmed up under the tent my husband sent right off the course, as we were sure it would rain. I got passed that already tired feeling while I watched our friends complete there single speed race laps and Jake, Sebra, and Samantha fill “frites” orders at an A race pace. It seemed to me there were more spectators at PIR than races. And for once I think there were more people waling around with pint glasses of beer than with dogs. Fortunately the rain held off all afternoon too.

The race organizers were keeping things unusually timely and I missed my call-up as I was over at the port-a-potties. Fortunately my friend and teammate, Rachael, held a spot

for me in the 3rd row. I did not think it a big deal until we took off. Instead of having a few women in front of me, there were ~18. (I know many riders who would love a chance to start the race i n the 3rd row, but I have experienced the benefits of a somewhat early call-up at the line-up and definitely appreciate it). I was riding fine if not well, though it didn’t seem so to me. But on lap three I completely lost focus when I decided to run from the first slick climb across the muddy plateau and tried to mount my bike too late for a successful descent into the pleasantly surprising rideable mud pool. I couldn’t get on my bike and get it moving at the same time eventually rolled down the bank and fell when I hit the water, causing others to do the same and lose their momentum. That’s when I really lost the focus my daughter so exceptionally exhibits when she races; get to the finish first, fast and in front of all the others. Instead I busied myself with shame for not training harder during the week, for getting in the way of other competitors and for making a lame decision about running my bike instead of riding it through the mud. With the bit of racing energy I could muster, I tried to mount my bike for the next slog through the mud. Again, I was unable to mount my bike and move forward at the same time. Instead I rammed my saddle tip into my butt like I’ve never done before, OUCH! Pain joined my pathetic attitude and I was sure I was out of any kind of point finish. I stopped racing and planned to just finish even thinking that if I didn’t ride too hard maybe I would have to do another lap.

After the run-up at the windmill energized by the drum core, I was riding down the off-camber descent channeled to the outside lift due to traffic when I ran into a woman doing it on foot. In response to my sudden and sincere apology she cried, “Go for it!” That was really nice! Just around that turn after getting onto the patch of asphalt, Hugh tells me, “You’re in 8th place.” I did not believe him, but he is not one to joke so I knew I wasn’t as far back as I thought. While I did not pass any master women before reaching the finish line, I did reclaim my racing attitude for my last lap and made a fast finish for 12th place and 7 points.

As usual, the race experience sheds a light on so many things for which I am grateful. For my husband’s support, I am grateful. For the opportunity to play and compete in this Cross Crusade series, I am grateful too. For other women who are giving themselves to the challenge of cyclocross racing and embracing the reality that we are all in it together, I am grateful. For my friend Dave, who exemplifies an encouraging and contented attitude at each race no matter how competitively he or anyone else races, I am grateful. I am also thankful to all those who watch the races, grateful for how you hold me up when I want to let it come down. Hopefully, awareness of all this energy within myself and from without will keep me from go in my mind where I went last week again.

While cyclocross is really challenging, serious hard to do in my opinion, with all that my friends, teammates, competitors and community to bring to it, it’s really not so hard to race. For such energy and encouragement I am thankful.

Go, go, go, I will try to always embrace for those 45 minutes. We are all out there doing the best we can, bringing what we have to offer to each race. These certainly are bike races with individual finishes, but they are also poignant experiences of community at its best.