Road race: watch out for the dead 'possum.

(Photo: Gavin) So... yeah. In the spirit of wanting to be a good teammate, and loving my team, and having nothing better to do and no excuses, I lined up for the W4 state chimp road race this morning. It didn't last long for me, really. I had heard the start was neutral around the corner, up the hill to the first time over the finish line. Even though Gina (the official at the start) clearly said it was only neutral to the turn and the hill was part of the race, my brain decided that it disagreed and didn't quite absorb that instruction. The field rode to the turn, and then rode around me. I was off the back, 20' in. (Feels like I've said this before, ya?) And then, I nearly rode over a dead 'possum by the side of the road on that hill.

Ya, so I was in a familiar place (except for the 'possum, and later dead chipmunk), but I knew I was strong and could do something. I passed the girl in front of me, asked her to work with me, and then she fell off my wheel. Passed another girl in front of me, same gig. Finally came up on a woman who was in a Chicago Tri jersey, passed her, and asked her to work with me. She didn't know what was up, but when I asked her to take a break and draft off me and get ready to pull me in a few minutes, she was happy to oblige. She told me her plan was to drop out the next time we passed the parking lot/start area. She changed her mind.

She and I worked together from the tight turn (#3 after the start, but #2 counting from the finish), reeling in the woman in front of us before the start line on Archer. Then we were three. I'm a crazy chatty Cathy and made introductions. I soon learned why everyone was cheering for me- her name was Julie too, so we had twice the Julie cheers. Our newest addition was Hillary. I worked my butt off to try to put this group together.

Yadda yadda, one full 10 mile lap of the three of us taking pulls, each of them getting shorter as we burned out. I should have thought like a racer and tried to solo a little to make space for my bad climbing, but it was more fun to ride in the group. We didn't see anyone in front of us, so the race became between us as we hit that last uphill. I had nothing left. They beat me, fair and square. I'd later learn that we were 10-11-12, and that's ok. I think there were 15 starters? Dunno. I didn't take last, which was my only goal, achieved.

Then they posted results and I was a DNF, and I had 15 minutes to go from the start (after I had changed to a skirt and cartopped the bike) up that infernal hill to the finish and protest. That was un-fun.

What was fun, though, was my team. I think I've said it before, but... LOVE. There were like 16-20 of us there, and we were drinkin' and hootin' and we got the metal sign from our teammates in the 4s and we ran up a serious tab at that there bar. It was fun. I can't wait for cross season.

Now, to stuff my face with food, try to avoid the hangover from those post-race beers, and pack for tomorrow's WORS MTB race.