I've had so much fun with cyclocross this year that I decided to head out of the hour drive radius (set by Patrick on my cyclocross racing to encourage us to spend time together outside of the car) and go to Portland, Maine for the race there. Patrick is seeking to start a new hobby to take some time for himself, target shooting, and was engaged that day at a workshop learning techniques for reloading. So, it was my first cycling race here EVER, I think, without Patrick. I had made arrangements to meet my cousin, who lives north of Portland there, and I was excited about that.
I knew a few, but only a very few, of the racers there and I had to muster up some courage to ask a stranger to pin my number. The course was fun and I was excited about the race. My start was not great but I was in the middle of the field of ladies at the first corner. I really struggle with taking speed through rough corners and I was mortified to see a substantial gap open ahead of me after a handful of turns. Wow, it looked like I had been the factor for selection of the top ten - poor girls that had got stuck behind me! I increased my efforts to be more aggressive and catch back up again. Certainly, I could get a few places as those in front of me tired. Just when I was sure I was in a position to start passing and try to get into the money, I felt the bike slip in a way that signaled mushy rear tire. I took it easy through a few turns and stopped after the run up to put my hand on the tire and confirm that it was flat. I ran to the pit but as there was no neutral support and I hadn't brought extra wheels, so I was out of the race. I briefly attempted running the remainder of the race, but stopped as not only did this look ridiculous but it seemed like a good way to injure my feet. Better to go back to the car, change into proper running gear and do an hour on the bike path.
I got ready to go, and ran into my cousin before I started running. We watched the remainder of the ladies race. When it finished, I realized that I could change my tube out and get into the men's race. Back we hustled to the car with 12 minutes before the gun. Not enough time for me to reorganize for the elite men's race, but I was able to get ready and warmed up again for the men's 4/5 race, this is the beginner level race .
Of course I had to start at the back of over 60 guys, a number of whom I was sure would go down at some point, quite likely as soon as the gun went off. It was surprising that I actually passed people between the start and the first corner. I imagine perhaps the back half of the field was taking it easy also anticipating a crash. Typically I'm getting passed at the start by the elite ladies and even some of the Cat 3 ones. It was clear that a few of the guys were considerably stronger and better riders than me, off they went. I could see guys behind me going down in the corners and I worked the first lap on getting by the bad bike handlers. I had a great time passing guys and getting passed. The race was about twice the size of a local ladies elite race and it was fun to be close to racers throughout the race. I did feel bad for the guys who were heckled by their friends when I was closing in to pass them. What kind of friends are those! At one point, I stalled out coming up a steep bit and a guy behind me cut right in very close to pass, yelling a warning as he did this. I yelled back something which I don't think I would have said during a ladies race. It was interesting to note how different my mood and attitude was during this race compared to the ladies race. More aggressive and more confident. Freedom from expectation of where I should finish in the race. I really had a great time.
Monday morning, I had a 7:30 am meeting on a new project. I walked in late to a room filled with guys, well over a hundred, and I didn't see a single woman. Here we go again, I thought.
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