I am stubborn and I don't learn from my own mistakes. In 2007 and 2009, I attempted the whole "ski and bike race combo weekend". I should know better by now. But I don't, and as evidence, I can almost guarantee I will repeat my stupidity in the spring, when the road race season heats up.
Barton Park was the last race of the Cross Crusade series for the year. It had rained all week down low, while it had snowed in the mountains. I just wanted to finish well, or at least better than I did at PIR the previous week.
It was not to be. From the moment I started turning my pedals, I knew the race was about survival. My legs were completely wasted. I may not have skied much the previous day, but I did pull a loaded sled out of several powder holes. That hurt. My legs, my back, my arms- everything was tired and complaining.
I have been in this state before. See: stage racing. Therefore, I know I can survive. I know I will finish. I also know that I will grit my teeth, I will swear a lot, I will curse my bike and I will generally hate the sport for the next 45 minutes to 3 hours.
I was passed in the mud, I was passed on what minimal barriers there were, I was passed on the runups...wait, WHAT?
Yeah, I was passed on the runups, the one advantage I have in cyclocross. The runups especially hurt and even caused tears to appear in my eyes. I even WALKED a stupid downhill because I was just so dang tired I couldn't fathom the technical skills necessary to get down it on my bike (yeah, that was embarrassing).
One tell-tale sign that I am tired? Crying. Just for the sheer sake of crying. Because I am tired. Because it hurts. Because I want it to be over. It's also a clear sign to me that this cyclocross season has probably ended for me.
In my first cyclocross season, I raced thirteen times. I loved it all, except for Barton. I hung out with cool people, I spent time with my family, I cheered Barkernews on (which doesn't often happen in road racing, given that we race at the same time), I ate waffles, I made new friends, I pushed myself...in summary, it rocked. And that's what I want it to be about, not about me beating myself up for my worse placement this season (17th) or crying on the course because my muscles hurt so bad.
Next season, I am moving out of the beginner category and in to the Bs. I am excited about racing with some faster, more experienced women.
For now though? It's time to focus on SNOW. Adios, cross season. You chewed me up and spit me out and all I can do is kiss your feet and say, THANK YOU.
The look on my face says it all.
Dear God, can you please supply with two different bodies for the weekends? Thank you, NoPoGirl.
Never again, I swear. Never again.
(until next year)
Barton kills bikes. During Barkernews' race, his handlebars snapped in half. Really. I could not make this up if I tried.
