Race number 5. In which I learn why never to quit again.

Coming off of a good (first) weekend of racing, Aaron and I wanted to try to keep with the momentum, so we found a race in Bowie, MD on the following Sunday.  We were already going to be in Richmond for the BFF, and Bowie was only 2 hours north.  We packed up the dogs and the bikes and headed to Richmond after work on Friday.  There was probably more drinking during the weekend than most people would recommend prior to racing, but nothing ridiculous.  On Sunday we drove up to Bowie and arrived with plenty of time to warm up.  It was 90 degrees in a completely unshaded course in some sort of tech park.  There was a major headwind on the back side of the course, and the dogs were not happy to be out of the A.C. for so long.

Aaron raced a great race, but cramped with just a few laps to go.  He warned me to take two bottles out with me, so I filled up a second with boiling hot water and lined up for the start.  There were lots of teams represented, and one of the girls who raced really well the previous weekend was there.  My goal was to stay on her wheel the whole race.  This was an open 1-4 race, and as far as I could tell there weren’t many 4s represented.

I actually started off racing really well.  I chased down anything that went off the front, stayed on a wheel into the headwinds, and maintained position at the front of the pack.  But with 6 to go a girl attacked into the headwind, and I made the mistake of following her.  She motioned to me to take a pull, I pulled for 30 seconds and was just done.  I motioned for her to take the lead, and I let the pack swallow me up an spit me out the back.  I contemplated sticking on someone’s wheel, but it just didn’t seem worth it.

I’ve never in my life quit a race.  I guess everyone needs a first.  Everyone needs to know what it feels like to quit.  How shitty it feels.  I was racing so well, and holding my own with a strong 1-4 field, and if I had stuck in the pack probably would have finished top 10, if not top 6-7.  The break that I ran with stuck, and two other girls bridged up for 1-3rd places.  I’m sure I could have sat in and taken the sprint at the end.  But no, I quit.  I’ll never actually know what I could have done, because I gave up.

What a shitty way to end a race.

I went into this race knowing that I was giving myself a pass on it.  I had only ridden once since last weekend, and we had been in the car for far too many hours during the course of the weekend.  I told myself going in that this should just be an educational race, but damnit if that didn’t set me up for failure.

The good:  I know that I can keep up, consistently, with an open women’s field.  I know that I can counter attacks, and rotate through the pack effectively.  I know I can ride in a pack of strong riders, and that helped to build my confidence ever so slightly.

The bad:  I quit.

So there you go.  4 races, 2 weekends, 4 totally diverse results.  And now I’m in the car on the way home wondering why the hell I wasted $35 to go out and train for 50 minutes today.