Saturday, May 14, 2016

True Story

I'm pretty sad tonight.  I finished the Ashland Criterium in 11th place.  I lost contact with the lead group of 10 and could not get back to them.  But that has nothing to do with why I'm sad. In fact, I didn't know If I'd finish well or not. I was more concerned about my handling skill.  There were corners.  There were climbs.  Overall, I felt pretty good around the corners. There really wasn't anything too difficult or technical.  I certainly have room for improvement, but this is where I'll get it.

The race was scheduled to be 40 minutes long.  After about 20 minutes, I lost the front guys.  Then I was working with 2 other guys. We were hoping (in vain) we could catch them.

Sometimes it looked like we were closing in, but I don't think so.  With 13 minutes left to race we were about 15 seconds back. Not likely we'd make that up.

Then a strange thing happened.  As we turned toward the start finish line, there were a bunch of cyclists standing in the road.  We didn't have any idea what was going on.  we were told we had to stop. That the race was being neutralized.

The lead group was put at the first turn.  After a while, our group of 3 was told to come up behind them.

The rest of the guys came up behind us.

We were told that we had to wait for an ambulance to clear the road.  There had been a crash and the person who crashed didn't know what his name was.

That's why I'm sad. I was involved in his horrific crash.  I didn't go down.  He did though.

It was during the first lap.  It was a fast downhill section and people were moving around all over trying to get a good position.  It was the first lap. Seriously.

On the way down the hill, A guy came up on my left fast and tried to cut me off.  I started to go to my right to avoid getting hit by him, but the guy an my right started drifting toward me.  All I could do was brace for the impact.  We hit shoulders hard.  I pedaled hard to try to stay up.  The guy drifted back and his arm and handlebar hit and went under my left thigh. I was pretty sure I was toast at that point.  Then I heard his crash.  I was still up, but had to be careful of all the Cat IVs in front of me looking back to see what was going on.

So that sucked.

After they paused the race 20 minutes later, they told us that there would be 3 more laps.  A neutral lap and then 2 finishing laps.

They sent the first group and a few seconds later we thought we'd be able to go.  But Darrell Webb started yelling at us like we'd done something wrong.  I think he was having a stressful day.

He said we were 50 seconds behind the front group.  He knew that because of the timing chips.

But ...  No way we were 50 seconds behind them. They had still been in sight when the race stopped.

The timing chip theory was flawed in the first place, because when they stopped the race, they stopped us behind the line and the front group in front of the line.  Then we had to wait at least 30 seconds before they let us move up in front of the line.

Again - it doesn't really matter - we weren't going to catch them.

But then, this is where it got really stupid.  At the end of the neutral lap, we were closer than 50 seconds to the front group.  Darrell Webb went all ape shit on us.  We were not trying to catch them.  In fact we got to a place where they were roughly the same distance ahead of us as they had been before the pause.  It seemed fair.

But the faulty conclusion about where we were in the race and the yelling at us was completely unnecessary.  Yes - the officials got it wrong.  No - it would not have made any difference (probably).

But it was still irritating.

But the worst thing (besides a guy went to the hospital) was that the 3 of us in our little group had 2 laps of racing left.  Sure it was for 11th place, but to me, it was still a race.

After one lap, one of the other 2 sat up.  I found myself in front of the remaining guy for most of the second lap.  I wanted him to come around, but he wouldn't.  Eventually he pulled up beside me and we just rode side by side until the final turn.  He sped up a little and I matched his speed.  I was really hoping for a fun little drag race.  Sure it doesn't count for anything, but c'mon.

Nope.  He sat up too.

Screw you guys, I thought as I stood up and sprinted home for completely meaningless 11th place.

The things I'm happy about are that I didn't quit even when there was no reason to continue.  I handled the corners well enough to get me by for now.  I didn't freak out and fall down when a guy ran into me.

Still though.  Very scary.  I don't pray, but I'm praying this guy's ok, just because I really want him to be.  Because in the end, this is just some stupid thing we do on the weekends. 50 seconds indeed!

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