Starcrossed and Rad Racing GP

Oh the humanity. With my inner Belgian still on hiatus and my fear of continued retribution from the cyclocross gods, I was unsure what to expect on Saturday as I packed my truck for Starcrossed in the rain. Warming up under a dry tree and a few laps on the course with some friendly faces I was reminded of the words of my former coach Patches O’Hoolihan, “aim low.” So I lined up in the second row behind a rad racing guy and tried to think of ways not to embarrass myself. I prepared to gun it through the first turns and avoid the inevitable train wreck. Off at the gun and in the pedals quick and easy I rammed the guy from rad racing when he missed his pedals and braked….I still managed to get by most of the chaos in the first turns but had to be nimble through the up-down into the small run-up. Smooth and almost fast I avoided people falling all over the place and worked to hold steady through each lap. I pushed myself to the point of barfing and backed off a notch. I drooled constantly and as much as I want to say it was to keep the mud out of mouth, it may be that I’m kind of a drooler…as I contemplated my drool, I heard Ben up high on the embankment and wondered if that was his cowbell embedded in the mud smack dab in the good line back into the infield…my plan to catch a few people didn’t work so well. I stopped counting laps, but just when it seemed like the race would never end I heard the bell lap….time to make my “move.” Wait do I have a move…where do you get a move....can I buy a move? So I worked to catch a Bike Collision guy and fend off some Canadians. I had to back off passing the Bike Collision guy before the turn back in towards the velodrome. this proved costly as he slid out through the turn. I worked to avoid him but watched the Canadians scamper by….ugh. Off the bike, over the logs and passed one Canadian who obviously wiltied from from imminent onslaught… Down the straight away, staying smooth-ish and letting the other Canadian pull into the final straightaway….Time to unleash my ferocious sprint…is that my big ring…must beat Canada. I talked the everti into defeating her homeland and with a vicious bike throw at the line I snagged…. 20th….i kept pedaling and tried not to hurl in front of everyone and wondered how Wilbur managed to be on each turn of the course ….

Learning experiences are painful…Sunshine greeted me and Wilbur as we drove south for the Rad Racing GP….signing up for the Masters 1, 2, 3 race was not the smartest idea I’ve ever had (and that is saying something)….We walked the course and the new additions up on the ruins of the ruins seemed fun – stairs, off camber downs and ups before the usual downhill and some good loops down amongst the barns….It turns out most of the Master 3s raced with the regular 3s as only three of the usual suspects lined up with the big boys. Again I found myself in row 2 next to a former national champ and ahead of some of the heads of state in the local scene…My goals for the day were to finish on the lead lap and not to be last. Now as I lined up I worried that I might jerk up the start for the good racers…Another great start found me near the front but I was quickly swarmed by riders flying towards the first turn. It was quite a scrum of elbows and bodies leveraging for a good line. Officially afraid I held on and pedaled fast hoping that the bad men would go away….by the run up we were strung out and I was back with my people…oh the run up….80 meters five times reminded me to run more…to think I used to like run-ups...fortunately the uphill slog into the pain cave came with a sound track but the only songs I remember were Van Halen’s ‘Jamie’s Cryin’ and GnR’s ‘Welcome to the Jungle’...a race within the race kept my mind busy and watching Jeremy trying to walk backwards up the run up as he cheered us on was a good distraction. I worked hard to catch Wilbur but two races in a weekend coming off a sinus infection might not have been the best idea….i sprinted the entire last lap to protect my ‘not last status.’ As I coughed up the chunky stuff and warmed down I marveled at my inability to distinguish between my inner monologue and my outward conversations…the suffering and fun I had on a course that seems new each time I race it was worth it….even I did take a huge beating.

- J