It Just Doesn't Matter.
Today was the Bodenburg Road Race, one of my favorite races on the Arctic Bike Club Road Racing Division schedule. I have a weird record on this course (considering how much I like it), finishing dead last on my first time there and fourth on the last two tries. The first time I cramped up and got dropped in the final sprint. The second time I was sitting fourth wheel, in perfect position in the draft to fight for the win at the bottom of the finishing climb, when someone grabbed brakes and I skidded to a near-stop. I limped to the finish.
This time around (my third) I wasn't really interested in doing anything except getting a good workout. I chased down attacks I wouldn't normally go after, took some pulls that may have been longer or harder than I should have, and generally played around. To be honest, after a couple weeks of riding a lot of miles at a lower intensity, I was doing a lot of bargaining with myself towards the middle of the race. Then my legs finally started to wake up, and I figured I'd see what happened at the finish. On the penultimate time up the finishing climb, I took a dig and ended up riding off the road and into the sand. Any gap I could have gotten was lost, and I started the last lap chasing the rest of the pack. First to last in one stupid move. I recovered and got back into the mix, working to drag back a rider who had gone off the front. His teammate was being extremely effective in breaking up chase efforts, but ended up forcing me off the road and into the sand again as he took a turn too slow, sweeping from one side of the pavement to the other. Again I chased and latched back on, but the writing was on the wall. I was sitting on a good wheel for the final turn, but didn't have the strength to go when he jumped. Riders streamed into the gap, and I surfed from one wheel to another before my teammate, Pete, gave me a lead-out to the bottom of the final climb. A hard-charging rider challenged me for fourth, but I was able to find just enough energy to hold him off. After over 47 miles of aggressive racing, I missed the podium by 11 seconds, all of them lost in the final quarter mile.
After my second side trip into the sand, I was extremely angry at the rider who put me there. That probably fueled my return to the pack more than anything else. I honestly wanted to put him into the ditch. However, my anger was fortunately short-lived, and we shook hands and talked it over after the race. He didn't mean to do it, and I knew it. There was nothing at stake other than a little pride, and nobody needs to get hurt if we can avoid it. Nobody's going to get paid here, but people can lose serious money due to injury. Sometimes Type-As like me forget that in the middle of a race.
I try to sit back and put it all into perspective. I had no goals for this particular race, other than to ride hard. The strongest and smartest riders ended up winning. My target stage race is next week, and this race was all about preparing for that, not winning. I earned the exact same amount of money for my fourth place as the winner got ($0.00). In fact, we paid for the opportunity. We are out to have fun, and we all had fun. I'd call that a win.
Now I need to rest and build up towards the Tour of Fairbanks. Any hopes I had of making an impact in the Masters field are slowly being chipped away as one strong rider after another signs up. The class I rode in last year,Sport, has nobody riding in it so far. It would be all too easy to slip into an easier ride and collect a trophy, but it would ultimately be less satisfying than a solid placing in a stacked field.
Then again, I may be singing a different tune after a couple stages...
This time around (my third) I wasn't really interested in doing anything except getting a good workout. I chased down attacks I wouldn't normally go after, took some pulls that may have been longer or harder than I should have, and generally played around. To be honest, after a couple weeks of riding a lot of miles at a lower intensity, I was doing a lot of bargaining with myself towards the middle of the race. Then my legs finally started to wake up, and I figured I'd see what happened at the finish. On the penultimate time up the finishing climb, I took a dig and ended up riding off the road and into the sand. Any gap I could have gotten was lost, and I started the last lap chasing the rest of the pack. First to last in one stupid move. I recovered and got back into the mix, working to drag back a rider who had gone off the front. His teammate was being extremely effective in breaking up chase efforts, but ended up forcing me off the road and into the sand again as he took a turn too slow, sweeping from one side of the pavement to the other. Again I chased and latched back on, but the writing was on the wall. I was sitting on a good wheel for the final turn, but didn't have the strength to go when he jumped. Riders streamed into the gap, and I surfed from one wheel to another before my teammate, Pete, gave me a lead-out to the bottom of the final climb. A hard-charging rider challenged me for fourth, but I was able to find just enough energy to hold him off. After over 47 miles of aggressive racing, I missed the podium by 11 seconds, all of them lost in the final quarter mile.
After my second side trip into the sand, I was extremely angry at the rider who put me there. That probably fueled my return to the pack more than anything else. I honestly wanted to put him into the ditch. However, my anger was fortunately short-lived, and we shook hands and talked it over after the race. He didn't mean to do it, and I knew it. There was nothing at stake other than a little pride, and nobody needs to get hurt if we can avoid it. Nobody's going to get paid here, but people can lose serious money due to injury. Sometimes Type-As like me forget that in the middle of a race.
I try to sit back and put it all into perspective. I had no goals for this particular race, other than to ride hard. The strongest and smartest riders ended up winning. My target stage race is next week, and this race was all about preparing for that, not winning. I earned the exact same amount of money for my fourth place as the winner got ($0.00). In fact, we paid for the opportunity. We are out to have fun, and we all had fun. I'd call that a win.
Now I need to rest and build up towards the Tour of Fairbanks. Any hopes I had of making an impact in the Masters field are slowly being chipped away as one strong rider after another signs up. The class I rode in last year,Sport, has nobody riding in it so far. It would be all too easy to slip into an easier ride and collect a trophy, but it would ultimately be less satisfying than a solid placing in a stacked field.
Then again, I may be singing a different tune after a couple stages...
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