Deep Fried Twinkie Fueled.

(photo: Ryan) Since my race was at 8pm, I thought we'd just skip it, leave earlier, and get back in time for WORS. So after Chris and Ben were done racing we hit the midway. I ate a deep fried twinkie, some of Chris' fried pickles and nachos, some butter n' onion covered pierogie, some of Ben's chocolate shake, and about 3 beers. Then, in the beer tent, I realized that after a 12 hour drive I would not want to get back in the car to drive to WORS. So I decided to race.

O man. On the pre-ride, I felt ready to puke. On one lap, I completely forgot that there were barriers (I mean, how many places do I ride where I have to get off my bike to go over something? ok, don't answer that.) and I ran headlong into them, giving myself a bruised n' bleeding shin. On the pre-ride. Nuff said.

Anyway, since I was likely to puke anyway I decided to put on a show and donned the hot pink butterfly wings. The announcer loved it and actually carried on about it for a good lap of the race. They got quite muddy. The race was under the lights and pretty darn awesome, and though it was dryer it still featured a few nicely deep mud puddles. It was sprint - stand n' turn - sprint - stand n' turn... the whole way.

The race started and I didn't even jockey for position before the arena but I found myself passing people nevertheless. I settled in with a group of three women, but within a lap the third was dropped. Then, for about five laps, I had a woman behind me, pushing me HARD. The puke instinct was coming on, so in the barriers, I sort of walked, letting her past. But she didn't go past.
"Please go ahead, I need a break," I mumbled.
"Me too," she managed to reply, panting. I didn't realize that I had been putting the hurt on her at the same time that I was hurting me, so I kept going with her behind me. In less than a lap, she bobbled and fell off my wheel. And that set my placing, 3rd.
Woah- how did that happen? Me in wings about to puke on my MTB, 3rd, and 16 of 25 in the overall with the guys? I'm strong right now. It feels great. But I haven't accepted that it means that my racing isn't a complete joke anymore- just a sort-of joke- and that I need to stop making pre-race excuses and start thinking like a racer instead. Strange place for me, never been here before. I blame Bob.

Anyway, after my ~9pm finish, we piled back in the car and drove home. What a weekend. It was awesome seeing my DC and East Coast friends again, like Ryan and Jen and Kevin D. and Wes, looking forward to seeing the whole crew again this fall! I'm still standing by my "I'm not getting a CX bike," but you might see me out there on the Spot a little more often this fall.