My Tour of the Midwest Part 1: I felt like a train wreck

Let me tell you what it feels like to be a train wreck.

It all started in Louisville, KY.  I don't know what happened, but somewhere between Seattle and Louisville I lost my confidence.  Maybe I should have gone home to pick it up.  My time in Louisville was great, I had great company, stayed in this incredible mansion, and ate amazing home cooked food.

Enough of that.

I don't need to tell you how my races at the USGP went.  They didn't go well.  I was a head case and a cluster F***.  I couldn't ride my bike in the sand, I couldn't run, and I couldn't find my confidence.  Saturday was terrible, I literally felt like I was scooped up, chewed, and then spit back out to deal with the mess.  I thought Sunday would go better, but then my mental health got the best of me, I broke down and became a head case.  Crashed in the sand...on my bike, not sure how that happens, lost a place and lots of seconds.   Then I slipped on the stair case, broke my shoe, lost a place and lots of seconds.  Broke my shoe, the first thing that came to mind was "can I quit".  I didn't quit, even though I so badly wanted to.  I finished, had a mini panic attack by myself, had a full on crying session with someone else, and then tried to re-group.

Needless to say, when it was time to leave, I couldn't have been more excited.  So, I piled into a car with 3 other people and we drove to Sheboygan, WI.  Look it up on a map if you don't know where it is.  I was excited to literally sit around and not do anything for the week, to let my body and mind rest a little after the train wreck of a weekend.

Monday I slept in, well I think I literally slept all day.  It's amazing how travel, racing, and mental craziness can cause you to be so tired!  That evening I had my first experience in a Piggly Wiggly (I don't really want to go back), there is no Organic Section.  This made me miss my home town with home grown organic deliciousness and buy local stickers everywhere.  The week ended up being quite relaxing, ate a lot, rode around Sheboygan, checked out Lake Michigan, slept, played iPad games, and then the week made a turn for the "worse".  I was too relaxed, I forgot to register for the races in Iowa the following weekend (and my sunglasses fell out of my helmet and were hit by a car).  Train Wreck.  I wasn't sure if this was a sign that I shouldn't race that I should just fly home.

After talking to my ever relaxing husband on the phone, a phone call to the race promoter, and lots of breathing, we figured it out and I was set to race.  So Friday morning I was piled back into the large van and we drove to Iowa City for some bike racing!

Cracked

Cracked.

That's all I have to say about the USGP in Louisville.  

I cracked.  Better luck next time.

Success - Courtenay's Dictionary

Success.

Everyone defines success differently (in terms of racing).  Success to one person might be winning a race, achieving a PR, finishing a head of a nemesis, making the podium, or not finishing last.  I have reached the point in my racing endeavor that success to me is no longer winning.  

Enumclaw.  SCX #5.

Dennis Crane Photography

One of my top favorite local courses I have ever raced (that and Woodland Park).  I had been looking forward to Enumclaw since the start of the season.  Enumclaw means mud, a nasty run up, a sweet decent, and a HUGE smile on my face.  Last year after this race I remembered why I race cross, why I have such a love hate relationship with rain and cold and last year was successful.  Enumclaw defines the reasons why cyclocross is fun (some may beg to differ).  So, to say the least, I was EXCITED to race this course, I made sure I was home and not traveling around.  Un-successful describes my race.  To an every day spectator and reader you may wonder "un-successful, but you won".  Who cares that I won?  I don't (okay of course I do a little bit, but that's besides the point).  


Success to me:

A successful race to me means smooth cornering, getting into a groove, becoming "one" with the course (that's total hokey I know), no fumbling around, no slipping and falling on your @$$ (or face).  Success to me is having fun.  All of those words I used to describe a successful race make it fun.  Fun is smiling through the mud that is caked in your teeth and flinging into your eye balls.  Fun is leg cramping run ups with an equally awesome decent, fun is getting into such an awesome groove that you don't want the race to end.  Fun is success and success is fun.  

None of this happened last Sunday.  I learned a lot (like I do every race).  I don't have to be racing at the national level to learn that the tires I have are not mud tires.  I'm still so new to this sport that I don't know anything.  I finished the race in first, but I don't feel like I won.  I couldn't get into a groove, I couldn't corner to save my life, and I crashed in the most silliest places.  WTH.  My bike wouldn't go in a straight line, no matter how hard I tried to get it there, I finally figured out I had to slow down to negative miles per hour in order to corner.  I couldn't accelerate out of the corner until my bike was facing forward, or else I crashed.  It was embarrassing to say the least.  I crashed 3 times.  3 times.  3 times.  That's not fun.  Okay, 1 of those times my hand slipped off the bars on the bumpy decent and I hit the ground HARD.  I went over my bars…in a cross race.  WTH.  This is NOT success.  So let me tell you and everyone else out there.  I may have won the race, but I didn't deserve the win.  I don't even know how I won.  I had an embarrassing showing of my performance and I didn't have fun.  I finished the race disappointed and honestly…I wanted to cry.  I tried hard to hold it in, but I just couldn't put on the "happy" face.  I'm sorry.  I'm sorry to those who had to deal with me, I'm sorry to those who had to witness my lack of amazing performance.  I'm sorry to the 2 men who got caught up behind me (and thankful that they didn't hit me) when I endoed.  I'm sorry to the man who I tried to pass in an un-passable area and made us both fumble.  I'm sorry it looked like I was learning to ride a bike again.  

From Sprinker.  The embarrassment of the giant hole.
Thank you Chris and Mel!

On a positive note, I'm glad this happened at a local race and not a national race.  Now I know which tubulars are mud tires and which ones aren't.  I'm learning.  

I am also very thankful for Redline Bicycles.  They have offered a Co-Sponsorship for me for the rest of the season.  What does this mean to me?  This means a "B"  bike, pit help, wheels, a place to warm up at the national races (and a team), this means help.  Help, boy do I need it.  The last 1/8 of the last lap at Enumclaw I pitted for a new bike with actual mud tires (the lap before I came through complaining about how much the tires where sucking).  I was able to handle my bike, it went straight, and I could corner at speed.  Wow, what a difference mud tires make in your performance.  Thank you to Redline Bicycles for that extra help.  I'm looking forward to the rest of the season.  

I'm currently headed to the USGP in Louisville, KY, then heading to Sheboygan, WI for the week, then over to Coralville, IA for 3 days of racing this Jingle Cross Rock.  Which to be honest..I'm a little nervous for!  I hear lots of mud, a huge run up, and a scary decent.  Okay…maybe that's everything I really enjoy?