I got nothing.

          On Saturday Corning/NoTubes Race Team hosted its inaugural NoTubes@Harris Hill CX race, which involved much more physical punishment than I expected.  Saturday dawned bleak, cold and misty, then developed into rainy with gusts of cold wind in the afternoon.  I woke with a sore throat but ignored it, preoccupied by the cold. For the first time this year I covered most of my legs, my arms and my hands with Mad Alchemy's Medium embrocation.  Reynaud's syndrome, while not exactly life-threatening, can temporarily make life truly miserable.  I plan to contact Mad Alchemy's manufacturer (it's a small company) and ask if he gives any discounts for buying in bulk.

The first racer to warm up heads out WAY early to scout the course.

          Only three open women signed up (Ruth, Sara, me), and we all rode for the home team.  But we started with the open men and didn't even have to wait thirty seconds, or a minute.  I chased the boys for an hour and seven minutes but didn't catch very many-which disappointed me a little.  I rode everywhere, all over the course, except for where I actually wanted my wheels to go.  The mud became enjoyably squishy late in the race.  I didn't see much of LiLynn, Ruth or Sara since we all bolted after crossing the finish line to find dry clothes.  Ruth said she slacked off on purpose so that she wouldn't have to ride an extra lap.   My eagerness to chase the boys earned me the extra lap.  What a great course, though!  It had everything a 'cross course should-sand pit, fast sections, grassy curves swooping up and down, even some running-and hopefully will draw a bigger crowd next year.   Steve Burdette, if you're reading this, you have a bright, bright future as a CX course designer.

          I wouldn't have thought racing for an hour and and change could do so much damage but afterwards I felt crushed-still nauseated and lightheaded even two and three hours afterward.  We (Bob, Katie, Garrett, me) went to lunch after helping take down the course.  I finished my hot tea but had to force-feed, pulled back and forth between hunger and nausea.  And the whole rigmarole of washing bikes, washing laundry, washing myself-SO much work.  I just wanted to nest somewhere in dry clothes and under a blanket.  As sick as I felt yesterday (Monday) and feel today (Tuesday), it was an obviously stupid choice to ignore it over the weekend.

         Finally in the shower, maybe two or three hours after the race, I cranked up the hot water but still felt wretched, queasy, back aching, and chilled.  I put some shower gel on a body sponge and started scrubbing.  My previously embrocated skin burned blissfully.  That felt better.  I firmly believed I'd recover in time for CX@Ommegang Brewery the next day.  My throat still felt a little sore but usually is after racing, so I convinced myself again things were just fine. 

      Sunday morning Bob and I got up early, fed the kids, herded them into the car, got onto the road in pouring rain.  I am sorry to confess I ran over a raccoon on the way to Ommegang.  It ran across the road and threw itself under the front wheels.  As a newly licensed driver, I had never killed something on the road before and felt awful. Bob assured me I didn't do anything wrong-at 55 mph in pouring rain, slamming the brake too hard or swerving wouldn't have ended well.  I guess there was a tradeoff between a suicidal raccoon getting its wish and four people getting into a car accident.  But I felt horrible.  I know I'm great at beating myself up about things after the fact and maybe it's time to give that a rest for a while.

What I'm thinking here: "Clumsy.  Slow.  You need 
faster feet." (photo: Katie Nunnink)

          I'm also great at beating myself up about things DURING the fact.  Let's talk about why I titled today's post "I got nothing."  Because it goes through my head over and over in every cross race in a hundred ways for a hundred reasons.  I can't find that extra bit of strength to ride up that hill just a little faster.  I can't corner like I want to, I can't stick to that great line I finally found the third time around.  Why did I pause and look down at that patch of mud in the corner?  Looking down is useless!  Look up, look forward, GO!  Why do I even have time to think about this stuff while I'm racing?  Obviously because I'm not riding fast enough.            
      As always, I had a great time racing at Ommegang.  The course changed from last year's to accomodate increased sloppiness from the past weeks of rain.  The mud really changed the race this year.  When they sent off the women, I didn't really gain much of a gap very quickly, feeling tired (AND sick, I know now).  I also took myself out three times due to questionable decisions on what lines I took and how fast to take them. I can only say I'm proud of myself for finally erring ONCE on the side of "too fast" instead of "too slow." But I really gave myself hell over all these mistakes because each time I handed everyone behind an extra chance to get closer.   For all I knew they'd be on me in seconds.  Yes, Roseanne Van Dorn, I know I told you this, but I ran scared from you (and Margaret Thompson and everyone else) the whole race.

WAS that really the right line to take,  just because it was rideable?  I don't know.
(photo:  Katie Nunnink)

          I don't think JUST beating yourself up physically makes 'cross so tough or so fun. I think most people ask themselves at some point why they race cross and not necessarily on a conscious level.  Everyone has a different answer,  and even the timing of the question differs from one person to the next.
          So what do I really want while racing?  I just want silence. I want freedom from this constant internal stream of diarrheaic blather that goes on endlessly through every lap.  And I think I know where I have to go to find it.  I have to go to races where we take off so hard that my legs and lungs will drain every extra ounce of blood from the brain and there will be no thinking, just the outside noise of wind and tires on dirt and the inside noise of heart slamming into ribs and airways gasping.  There will be no decisions, only what the other riders and the course dictate.  Maybe in that short span of time I can live in temporary peace, and deal with all the crap and the second-guessing after they drag my carcass off the course.  So I'm heading off to look for that little bit of peace and quiet next weekend-during 2 days of UCI big-girl racing at Providence.  Just might find it there.  Or I might find something else entirely.  Regardless, I'm going to have a GREAT time on another wonderful road trip with Bob, if I can just shake this nasty virus that's gotten hold of me.  One thing I am certain of:  the big girls will tear me to little pieces.
           I can't wait.

A bunch of like-minded dirty women.  From left:  Tamara Lewis, Margaret Thompson, me, Roseanne Van Dorn, Angela Schnuerch, Anne August.  LiLynn, Ruth, and Sara, we missed you girls...
(photo courtesy Bob Nunnink)

          

Photos and results from NoTubes CX at Harris Hill here and on BikeReg.

Nice writeup from VeloChimp- right here where the author confesses Bob got the better of him in the men's Cat 3/4 race...
Results from Ommegang on BikeReg.