Picture of me before the race Saturday (just for mom!)
Regardless of the brief disappointment I felt by my results over the weekend, I have come to realize the great complexity of knowledge one must acquire to become successful in the sport of cycling. Talent alone is not a prerequisite for success, as understanding the dynamics of the unforgiving European peloton. This weekend I had my work cut out for me as the fastest women cyclists in the world were racing in the same event as I. But despite their talent and years of experience, the chaotic and exciting commotion of the culture behind European cycling was enough to cause a stimulus overdrive for me. It was as if I had just started a new job; though I had skills, I had yet to learn the new rules of the game.
Andrew, mechanic to right, girls pinning jerseys and Jim, director to the left.
The day started out with a 60 minute drive to the race. I was trying to stay hydrated, but nearly became incontinent from windy roads and nervousness of my first race. The team had to stop the car, immediately and let me out to relieve myself alongside the road! We arrived to a tiny town atop a hill for the start of the race. It was a commotion of many people and cars, all packed onto narrow, ancient roadways. People were bustling everywhere, with excitement for the race. Photographers, and many town’s people walked around to admire the riders, and there was much noise coming from the loudspeaker. A helicopter flew overhead, ready to broadcast the race. Though I couldn’t understand any of the languages, I knew that this would be an exciting adventure for me.
The race started with a cluster of over 170 riders, all of different nationalities. We first paraded through the town and then began our official start. Immediately, the pace was fast, winding through the narrow to wide roads and descending; constantly on and off the brakes. I could smell burning rubber as the bikes would screech to slow and suddenly speed up. Never in my life had I felt such a “rush” of excitement as we were going at such high speeds down descents, dodging cars parked along side roads, and nearly rear-ending the rider in front. Never before had I been forced to keep my mind so focused while racing. My lungs hurt, my brain was overloaded. I was working as hard as I could. Because it was my first European race, our director Jim, just wanted this to be a learning experience and our only goal was to keep each other accountable. Easy said, harder done. The girls were so aggressive and would snatch your wheel in an instant and yell “ochio, ochio” (watch out), and suddenly you’d be funneled straight out the back of the peloton and expend an incredible amount of energy moving up the sides.
But just my luck, I was shot out the back of the peloton, just before an important TV climb (most teams want time on TV), so I was dropped. Without knowing, riders are pulled from the race after being dropped. The official sped by by and yelled “Stop!”. I had no idea he was cutting me, because they don’t do that in American racing, so I kept riding hard; found a group of girls to ride with and we eventually found our way to the next town, also the finishing town. At the time, I still had no idea I was done racing so when I found the team car, I said, “Hey I need some water, quick, I’m going to keep going!” My teammate Emily was standing there with disappointment on her face, changing out of her chamois, and she said, “Melissa, the race is over, you’re done.” I was so confused, “Really, it’s over?! What a short race!” She said, “Melissa, we were pulled!” “Oh, that means I was pulled way back there! I feel like such a fool!” I laughed, and decided to spin my legs out, then go watch the rest of the team finish.
Too much excitement in one day. New languages, new people, and a whole new rule system to learn. The peloton beat me but I felt that the second day would leave room for improvement. Before coming to Europe, my good friend Mona said to me, “Melissa, always remember that you are in a great position. You have NOTHING to lose from this experience and EVERYTHING to gain.” Her advice cheered me up and I realized that though I had my work set out for me, I’d have a great story to tell, and an adventure to go along with it.
American Kristin Armstrong with Team Cervelo Lifeforce wins Saturday’s stage of the Costa Etrusca.
Sunday’s race involved longer climbs and the peloton was much more aggressive. The roads wound through more towns and the descents were technical and fast. I quickly found myself working hard descending and fighting to move up in the peloton. This time however, I was more defensive about keeping wheels, yelling “ochio” any chance I could and sticking my elbow out to defend my position. My goal was to stay with my teammates and follow their lead. I held onto Carmen’s and Emily’s wheels and at one point all six of us were together in a line. When teams ride together, they receive respect from the peloton and rarely will other riders take their wheels. This moment ended when we came through town and had to dodge more cars. In no time I was again pushed to the back when there was an attack at the front of the peloton. I chased, drafting off of the follow vehicles (only legal in European racing), but was slowed due to the congestion of traffic. Again the race official drove by and yelled “STOP!”. This time I knew he was cutting me, so I sat up, defeated again.
Team vehicle with our director Jim at the wheel, after Saturday’s race.
After getting dropped, I was out of water and rode towards the town I thought was the finishing town. Knowing I have terrible navigation skills I found myself on a new adventure. The climb to the town was about 10K and I stopped a few times to ask for directions to the finish. No one spoke English, so I did my best to communicate in Italian. “Dove el finito, per favore” They pointed, “ah, Castellina, si”. So I rode to Castellina, thinking I was in the right town and stopped to take a rest. After awhile I decided to look for our team car, but didn’t have any luck so I stopped to talk to some cute old ladies. They didn’t understand English and I didn’t understand them, but I got the gist of what they were saying. They asked if I was a racer and if I was in 1st place! I laughed, and said, “No, no, I’m done, sono stop!” But they were so proud of me for being a cyclist and constantly chanted “brava, brava bella!” I asked them where the finish was and they pointed to the center of the town. Eventually I found a race personnel and they told me that the finish would be in Santa Luce! Santa Luce was 20K’s away! So, I began pedaling, still out of water and stopped as the race came by me. A few of my teammates were still in, so I proudly cheered them on. The race had started with about 170 riders and was only down to about 30. Jim blew past in the team vehicle, saw me and later said he had told our mechanic Andrew, “Remember this spot, we’re in trouble, we’ll be looking for her later!”
I slowly found my way to the finishing town, following the few arrows along the way. I was only 2K’s from the finish when the SRM car drove by, spotted me, and stopped to give me a ride. When I finally arrived at the team car, Pinot, the SRM guy said to Jim, “I have a present for you…your lost sheep.”
I talked to my dad on the phone that night and he said, “Melissa, only sheep get cut.” So, I guess I’m a sheep….but one of these day’s I’ll stay in the flock. The weekend was hard, but an extraordinary experience. We had raced with the fastest women and teams in the world. Soon I leave for France, where I will have a chance to do well. The French Cup races will be more low key because all the big name riders will be in Belgium. Jim said he wanted it to be like “being thrown in the deep end of the pool, swimming to the shallow end, and finally being able to stand up.”
