Let's pretend that the reason why I hardly ever update this blog is because I ride my bike so much. Hmmmm...
...yeah, I like that.
Guess who has started racing. I'll give you a moment.
Okay - If you guessed me, you were correct.
I started racing! I never would've considered it, but the guys at the shop started talking about doing it for some reason. They just assumed that I would come along with them when they went out the first time. My boss gave me a shop kit, and I stripped the fenders and racks off of my touring bike and off we went. Here, in Austin, is something called the Driveway Series. It's a weekly crit series on a Grand Prix circuit built for car races, so the asphalt is super smooth.
I'd really never done anything like that before. I've done alley cats and Santa Cruz's epic Wild Cat race, but real road racing was something I'd not ever considered.
The first week could've been better. I went in to it so relaxed (so that I wouldn't freak out) that by halfway through the race I dropped off, and I never caught back up. FYI, when you fall behind in a race, you don't have anyone to draft off of anymore, and you work twice as hard to move for the remainder of the race - not fun. I guess it also didn't help that, even with most accessories stripped off, my touring bike still weighs 27 lbs. Most of the guys out there are rolling on bikes that weigh <20 lbs.
The second week, my boss lent me his Ti Litespeed. My only goal was: don't drop off, and when it came down to it, I hung in there. I was actually performing quite well, but the bike... well, the bike needed maintenance that I wasn't aware of and I ended up throwing the chain. I shifted it back on, and I started to catch up. Then, when I tried to take a sip from my new, plastic water bottle, I squirted the water into the back of my throat and I started choking. I've been riding with steel water bottles for so long that I've actually had to learn how to take a sip, while panting and not choke on the water (it seems like a lot of people take that for granted). By that point, I fell behind again. I wasn't going to recover, but at least there was only a couple laps left.
My sole goal remained not to fall behind for several races. I kept telling myself, "Keep up enough to not fall behind. Just draft off these other guys, so I don't have to work so hard." I got more and more confident each race, until I was determined to get a top twenty finish. Often I felt really strong. About my fifth race, I felt so strong and calm that it was down to the last five laps before I even felt like I was working. But the next week, things changed.
It was the sixth race for most of the guys from the shop. We planned on really working together as a team, and it payed off. JP and Tim, the two strongest guys riding with us were regular shop customers. They, plus one of the other mechanics at the shop (Paul) and myself, we're killing it.
Team Peddler, in the lead!
When Paul and I dropped back into the group, JP and Tim kept leading the race, and there it stayed for the last couple of laps. Then, we came around the final turn for the finish line, and everyone sprinted. Later I would find out, that someone clipped JP's rear wheel hard enough for the back of the bike to drop out from under him. He went down, hard. He was in the lead, so everyone had to try and maneuver around him. I saw his body on the ground, rolling toward me, and other guys hitting him and going down. I whipped hard to the right to avoided running over his head. A wave of panic washed over me, and I thought that I should stop to help him. Everyone around me continued sprinting though, so I mashed on the pedals, bared down, and finished my sprint for the finish.
Final Sprint - that's me in the black helmet
When I crossed the finished line, my first top twenty finish, I was gesturing behind me to the wreck and saying how bad it was. I couldn't find any of my teammates, and I wandered around the spectators - not sure what to do. Finally, I jump back on the bike and rode out to the wreck. JP was bleeding from his head and complaining about his collar bone. Paul had gone down too, but he was up and coherent with hardly a scratch on him. Tim avoided it all as I had, and was there attending to JP. Two other guys went down as well. They both had concussions, but one of them hardly knew where he was or what was going on. The other guy had his jersey off, and his back was nothing but lacerations from neck to waist.
JP grimacing as they put his arm into a sling
My performance has dropped off a bit in subsequent races, and I think it's fair to say it's a result of nervousness. They've also, it being the end of the season, combined the Cat 4/5 race (beginners) with the Cat 3/4 race. It's earlier in the day, so there's a little more Texas heat to deal with, not to mention it's longer and faster.
I'm hardly going to end this entry on a down note though. Despite fear of crashing, I've still totally fallen in love with racing, and I've set a goal of building up my own racey bike by the start of next season (spring). I just never would've imagined liking it so much! I guess if I had, I would've tried it years ago.
