I admit it.
Ive been AWOL.
It isnt like I havent been racing (I have) or even racing so poorly that I cant even bring myself to write about it (I... well...) - its just that I have had lots of "preparing" to do. Here is a quick run down of the last two weekends of Mike at the races:
Winstead Woods: After sitting in traffic for two-and-one-half hours with Sweetness through scenic East Hartford, we made it to the race (despite the organizers best efforts to keep its location a secret) with just enough time to afffix numbers, stuff some food in our faces and line up with 12 or 13 other soggy dudes.
Did I mention that it had been pissing rain for ten days straight at this point?
The long and short of the race is this: I Shopengarten'd the hole shot, was winning for about two minutes and fifteen seconds, slipped out while trying to encourage the much faster guys that were somehow behind me to pass and blew up so hard that like Goose, I was dead before my shoot was able to deploy.
Did I mention my bike was sucking chain like it was getting paid by the hour?
At this point, the entire race had left me behind. Which was fine, as there would be no witnesses to my wackness.
*aside* I would like to point out that as I am writing this, it sounds like there are 5 chipmunks mugging a cat underneath the cabin.
Somewhere near the end of the second lap I remembered that I was in a bike race, and that I should at least make a pretense of going fast. The problem was, the course was either all up or all down. And the "all up" part was kicking my natural ass.
So I thought I would push it on the downhills. The wet, rutted, rooty and twisty downhills. Good idea.
Turns out it actually was - I passed a few guys near the end of the 3rd lap, and caught one more on the 4th.
I ended up 10th out of maybe 11 finishers.
Weeping Willow: God damn I love this race. Determined not to repeat last weeks dismal performance, I got there EARLY, made sure my bike was working properly, prerode some of the course, and TOTALLY BLEW THE START.
Making my way up the inside, I was trying to pass dudes cause I felt good. Strong, even. I should know by now that any good feelings I have while racing should be mercilessly crushed before they can ruin my day.
There was this little rise on the right. I was going to use it to pass. My cunning plan unraveled when the "little rise" turned into a "gravel pile".
For the second time in as many weeks, I watched the whole elite field ride away from me.
Taking the reverse holeshot into the woods, I had like 25 dudes to wade through (that makes it sound more like a porno than it actually was...) to get back into a good spot. I ended up hanging out with Rooter and Dad Legs, and we rode in the wake of what must have been a spectacular Rowell Implosion, because there was not a soul to be seen ahead of him.
Finally getting some daylight, we Team Time Tri-ed to catch up to someone (anyone) else. I towed those two for a lap or so, crashed like an asshole (so as to block the trail as best I could), chased back on, dropped Dad Legs, felt strong (remember what I said about good feelings during the bike race) towed Colin again, chose some "less than ideal" lines, crashed like a dick again, jammed my bar into the back of my knee, tried to chase colin while yelling largely impotent (and almost completely incoherent) harangues at the back of his bike, got on-your-lefted by a cooked sport rider and then CAUGHT by a suddenly rejuvenated Mike Rowell.
This was going great.
The only place I had to ditch him was the bridge. Ask Colin about how well I had been riding it during previous laps. Somehow (probably cause I felt positively AWFUL at this point) I drilled it through the wet roots, bunnyhopped up the bridge and set whatever fuel I had left on fire for the last half mile to the line.
Result 9th out of 24 (?)
Now, after preriding the Transylvania prologue stage with Adam Snyder, I know not to "feel good" at any point. The idea is to have some kind of handicap, or maybe just something to piss me off enough to actually do well. And to be fair, with the climb in the middle of the course just waiting to stuff my inner nerd into a gym locker, its looking pretty good.
Oh wait... bad. Definitely bad.
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