Things we shouldn't care about, and can't afford...and why we end up with some of them anyway.

I'm admiring Ruth's skid marks.

         Two weekends ago at Kirkland CX, we kicked off cyclocross season in central NY, on a course at its grass-choked muddy worst after a few tropical storms.  Or best, if you like it that way.  For my warmup (as usual) I stared down, psyched out, grabbed brakes, fell in the mud.  No way I could ride this course. Forget race it.  Staying upright?    Well, it always turns out that once I'm standing behind a start line, I have a different outlook on things.  Blow a whistle and I'm not the same rider.

          I got a little bit lucky.  Given that some talented (and better experienced) local ‘crossers lined up,  plus my own fearsome teammates (Ruth Sherman, LiLynn Graves, Margaret Thompson) I planned being third or fourth.  But the mud and mechanical problems got in the way for a few people.  And when it came to finding good lines, this course provided lots of fun, like a "Choose Your Own Adventure" novel (anybody remember those?).   I picked different options, which the other riders in front didn't see because I tried to be sneaky about it and stayed behind them during the first lap.  So I didn't go down anywhere and ended up alone in front with a gap.  Normally in a ‘cross race you want this situation-until you get into it and realize you must keep plugging.  Harder.  Faster.  And this course in its current state provided pure torture.  The deep mud and tangled grass were so challenging that I looked forward to playtime in the sand pit.  When the officials posted one to go, I thought deliriously this meant two more laps-the lap counter reads zero when you’re ON your last lap, right?  Hell, they could take that last lap and shove it.  BUT when I came around and pleaded with the officials to let me stop, they said I was done.  Oh...I pedaled slowly, caught my breath and gathered my wounded pride, and pretended I'd never beg to be allowed to stop.  (Fortunately my boyfriend Bob didn’t witness this). 

LiLynn tears it up, game face on.

       Margaret Thompson put a bug in my ear after the race, said that cross was really MY SPORT and I HAD to go to some bigger races for more competition-heck I needed to do UCI events.  She's continued saying it since.  I wasn't sure, but Margaret is a professional coach, bike-fitter, and amazing racer in her own right.  I listened, because I've never known Margaret to be wrong about ANYTHING cycling-related I've asked her.  Then she told me about some big 3-day cyclocross festival in Cincinnati in November, and that she wanted to go.   I said I didn't think I could afford it.  And wasn’t a UCI license $150?  Heck, she said, I could use my prize money from Kirkland to buy a UCI license.   So I went home and found the website for Cincy3, and saw I could take a two-hour clinic with KATIE COMPTON for $30!!  

      That did it. I talked to Bob about it (he jumped right aboard), and bought my UCI license (actually just $60 because I already had road and MTB licenses).  Then I blew what discretionary income I had left in a matter of minutes.  Forty bucks a pop for a UCI race, multiply by 3, add another thirty for the clinic...and that’s just the beginning.  The third day of racing at Cincy3 is a UCI C1 event.  That means I can GET MORE UCI POINTS which is REALLY IMPORTANT FOR YOUR STARTING POSITION AT WORLDS.  If you know me, you’re probably snickering right now.  If you want to laugh even harder, go to the "confirmed riders" list for Cincy3 and check out the Elite Women's field-look what I'm going up against.  But there you have it.  I am an ELITE cat 2 racer, and I am ready and willing to have my booty kicked by the true Elites of the world.   I don’t have a car, I don’t have a skinsuit in Corning/NoTubes Race Team colors yet,  and I have a new bike that’s still technically borrowed until I pay it off.  Oh.  About the bike.  I never meant to buy it because I really couldn't afford it.  I saw it at Glenn Swan’s hanging from the rafters and I avoided looking at it because, like a dog at the pound, you know better than to look it in the eye or else you’re taking it home.  Bob decided for me.  He said I couldn't race my beater anymore.  And in typical Glenn fashion, Glenn said the bike wasn't going anywhere anyway.   I think he said that about the last three bikes I bought from him.

              I don't know where else I'm going this cross season-as far as UCI races are concerned.  Possibly Providence or Granogue?  My budget is so tight my chest hurts to think about what I'm missing out on. But rest assured that, as much as I am poking fun at myself and trying not to take this all too seriously, I will make it to the start line for some of those big races, and there I expect to turn myself inside out like I never have before.   I'll crash, get up, get dropped, get faster.  Hopefully you'll all have as much fun reading (and laughing), as I will blowing out my lungs and trying to keep it up while hanging on for dear life.


Kirkland results here.

Me, Margaret, and Ruth post-race.