Self mutilation, mastication of organic materials, purple limbs, recovery drink = beer…tis the season for a masochist.
Already dropped.
Forgetting the brutality of cross, my first race on September the 13th, began with a face-plant over the barriers on lap one. I stumbled up the hill, holding up the field andstruggled to clip in. With only a few days on my new cross bike, I again was humbling myself at the very back of the field. You win some, you lose some. I went into the race with a big head, only to regain it’s appropriate size. I finished 2nd to last…exhausted and defeated. Just need to practice and get into ‘cross shape’.
Aaron going over the barriers.
Wednesday after work, Aaron, Pat and I dashed up to Wrenthem for a training race, it was my saving grace for the upcoming weekend. Almost 50 men, lined up on their bikes, and when the whistle blew, elbows were flying, tires spinning as everyone fought for position on the trails. Over the barriers, they threw themselves and back onto the bike. I had to transform my brain into that of a man’s to compete with their aggressiveness…”that sucker cut me off…I’ll show him!!” The training lasted until dark. Our hearts were pounding, bodies sore, but we were all smiles. And me, I knew what needed to be done in order to put myself at the front of the women’s field.
Saturday came and Rob and I drove up to Waterville, NH. Northern New Hampshire was already transforming into the beautiful New England fall. The course was at the ski resort, over some Nordic trails, through 2 sand pits, 2 tunnels, a muddy hill, and barriers. The course was fairly technical and I was psyched! I could do this on a single-speed and now…I had gears! Before the start, I headed to the porto. My water bottle was tucked into my back pocket. As I stood up from the seat, I heard a loud KABOOM!! What was that!?? I turned, looked around, and realized as I saw it below…my jersey was lighter and my bottle had fallen into the dark never-land… never to be used again!
As we lined up, all six of us, I glanced around. A couple pro-crossers, one lady with UCI world championship jersey, and me. Don’t want to be last. Stay at the front.
I'm catching her!
We took off, and immediately I took the lead. The girl in the burnt orange kit stumbled laughing over the first set of barriers. I quickly made a gap between the other riders. But suddenly I became very uncomfortable. Was I going too fast…did I belong up there? I hit an unfamiliar and uncomfortable zone…. “Snap out of it….of course you’re supposed to be at the front!” I yelled at myself. After the first lap, two riders passed me, right after the long, zig-zaggy sand pit. I chased andstayed close to the second rider. Through the slush, over the barriers, zig-zag through the trees, sand, through the tunnel, off the bike, over the barrier, sprint up the hill, on…down the hill…slow through the mud, around the corner, stand up…jump on the pedals. Singletrack. Over the bridge. “Go Melissa…you almost have her!” Around the bushes, up a hill, down hill…tight turn, through the tunnel of water. Splash. Wet feet. Across the grass, in andout of the turns. Step on the gas! Across the gravel, into the sand. Off the bike, shoulder it, and run…weaving through the sandy maze. On the bike, over the bridge….closer andcloser to the girl in blue. Finally, I pass her! I stand up and build a gap.
Putting down the pain.
Lap after lap….I think I’m going to finish in second place! But wait…I look back and see another face passing the girl in blue! She makes her way forward each lap. My body is becoming fatigued as I jump on and off the bike. Two laps to go and I hear her breathing down my neck. I panic and push on. Over the bridge and through the bushes…I hear a scream. What was that?!! “You’ll be fine!” I hear someone yell….the girl behind me was getting chased by a dog!! She was getting closer than ever! The sad pit. I threw myself off the bike, and ran. She was so close. Suddenly I feel my rear wheel catch a post as I shoulder the bike. I tug and the bike releases and smacks me in the head. Ouch. I regain my balance, but it was too late, she had made her move. She had me, mentally and physically. I was done for.
“Don’t give up,” I thought and chased on but it was too late. The last lap and I was defeated. I finished 3rd. But, third is good after a weekend in the back! Smiling, I went to the podium and accepted my$$ and goodie bag of a ski pass, ginger ale, and maple syrup.
Bag of goodies!
I returned home, semi resembling a beaten-wife. Sunday, I made Aaron waffles. ”Bring home the bacon,” he says.