Boo's Big Day

You always know this day will come--the first day of kindergarten. It's a rite of passage for all of us, starting school. I still remember my first day. At that time, we only had half day kindergarten and our orientation was the first day of school, so my mom was there the whole time. I did fine without her on day two and the rest of the year, but I was "that kid" that generally liked school--heck well enough that I haven't really left it. But the first day of school as a mom, that's something different.

If you know me well, it shouldn't surprise you that as soon as I got the supply list, it went in my purse with a highlighter. As things went on sale at Target, I picked up what he needed. I felt a little guilt that I didn't make the big deal of taking my boy to get his supplies, but the practical side of me usually overtakes the sentimental side. Boo is so used to me being that way he honestly thinks he picked out his own backpack and told his dad he got yellow because they were all out of orange.

Monday night was Orientation. Sissies weren't allowed so Sam and I packed him up and headed to the school. We got there and I had forgotten the backpack so home we went and back again. There were no cars in the parking lot when we left. It was almost full in the 10 minutes our side trip took! We walk into the newly renovated gym and took a seat near the front. (yes, I was that kid.) As we walked through Boo saw lots of friends and I saw lots of former classmates. Memories flooded back because this was the building I was in for first through eighth grade. It's definitely a lot nicer now! It was interesting to watch another principal in action. I've had to do the same schtick for sixth grade parents and it was fascinating that it's much the same for the little ones. The mass meeting was done and it was time to go to the classroom. Just like a good kindergarten teacher should, the room was decorated, labeled and organized. And Boo's desk is front and center...did someone warn her about my clown? Klucker put away the supplies while I made the rounds signing up for conferences, room parties, and email lists. (I'm avoiding PTA right now, although I feel guilt for that as well.) We chatted with parents of other kids from pre-school and headed home.

Wednesday came quickly. The plan was for Klucker to take Bell to school and I would drive Boo. He had a half day so I would pick both of them up from the pre-school when he got off the bus. (Another tinge of Mommy-guilt was there when I saw other parents listing that Mom or Dad would be picking up daily....is it bad my kindergartner is a bus rider?) Sissie wasn't happy with the whole situation. She hadn't slept well the night before and now was in a tizzy over it all. Things were calm once they were out of the house.

7:45AM--time to go. We grabbed the backpack and headed outside. I had to take the requisite photos in front of the house. Into the car and to the school we went. There were already lots of parents and kids there. Time for more photos and we began the walk to the door. One more shot by the school sign before going inside the building. Boo remembered where his room was and we walked outside. Mrs. S gave directions on what they should do if they were early. He sat in the hall and I stood across taking photos. Finally time to go in the room. I hesitated. Should I go with him? Should I just wave? I went in the room and helped him unpack. He put his backpack in his locker (little shorty has to have it moved because he can barely open the ones on the top row!). He came back and I took a few more pics. Mrs. S told the kids they could open their Playdoh while they waited for the bell. I took the seal off the can and that's when it began--the hot burning sensation just below my eyes. The tears were forming. I was going to leave my boy there, in a big kid school. I know what goes on in schools, I see it all the time. Today I was beginning to lose a part of him. Eventually I will no longer be the most important person in his life and this is when that process starts.

I hadn't expected these feelings. Where was this coming from? I knew I needed to get out of there before he saw my tears. It would upset my sensitive one and ruin his day. I quickly hugged him and told him to have a good day and started out the door. "Mommy, can you open the lid? I can't get it." Damn it, I didn't know how long I could hold it back. I popped off the lid and took another hug and kiss. "Mommy loves you. Have a great day." And out I scurried, quickly down the hall, avoiding eye contact. I was on the sidewalk and to the car. Once inside I let go. The tears rolled. I got them stopped by the time I got home. I seriously wondered if I should call or email to check on him and then realized how ridiculous I was.

I kept myself busy through the morning, handling details of my Tuesday evening bike mishap. I headed to pre-school to pick up Sis and wait for the bus. Those 2o minutes took forever, and it didn't help that we saw three other busses pass by. Finally, around the corner it came. I had to laugh when the door open. Boo had been telling me Ms. A (a part time teacher at the preschool)was going to drive him to and from school. I kept telling him he was mistaken, she would probably be putting him on and getting him off the bus. The doors opened and there was Ms. A, she's also a bus driver. The kids poured off. Where was he? Certainly he didn't get on the wrong bus? I was getting a little anxious. No, the little snot, just like his dad, sat in the back of the bus. I barely had time to snap a picture as he jumped out and ran towards us.

We had a special McD's lunch to celebrate. He was full of conversation, but short on details. I knew he had a great day, didn't lose recess time, and saw his cousin in the hall. By the end of the evening, we learned that Olivia got a time out, he went to PE, and colored. I'm sure we'll eventually get other pieces.

Today was the first full day, he rode the bus and all. I'm anxious to get home and see how this went as well. I want him to love school. I want things to be easy for him. I want this transition to get easier for me as well. While I'm excited for him to grow up, I'm scared of him pulling away. There are so many variables out there I can't control for him and now that he's starting school, they will grow exponentially. I guess that's the heartache of being a parent. At sometime you have to let go and trust they are prepared. I'll get there.

Taking Time to Enjoy the Ride

I'm a goal-oriented person. I decide what I want, I plan backwards and strategize and plot a course of action as to how to obtain my goal. I make sure I have short term benchmarks to stay on track and I adjust if necessary. This process typically has served me well both personally and professionally. There's very little I can't do if I set my mind to it.

Lately, I've been plagued by something though. I am typically in such a hurry to reach my goal (after all, good SMART goals are time bound) I don't enjoy my journey and reaching my short term strategies. And I think it's taking some of the fun of grabbing the silver ring.

I'll give you a cycling related example (big surprise!). As I've said before, I've been extremely focused on two goals this season, the state crit and MOBAR. I made a plan in December about what I would do to accomplish these goals. I rode my bike in nasty, cold weather. I rode in rain and wind. I spent hours on the trainer. I suffered through heat. I followed my workouts doing intervals and long rides. The state race came and I almost got it. My plan was sound, my own execution error is what's to blame. I was extremely disappointed. And trust me when I say I don't handle disappointment well.

I'm a professional developer, and I work extensively with adult learners, so I know and believe what Art Costa says about adults learning best through reflection. I love Jack Mezirow's (Columbia University) quote "A defining condition of being a human being is that we have to understand the meaning of our experience." Since April, I've been using my Monday morning runs and my blogs as my means of reflection. I critique my racing--fitness, strategy, and execution--and use the insights to help me get better, stronger, faster. Steve Austin watch out! I ran this past Monday morning and reflected. I pinpointed my strengths and weaknesses from the two races, but I still didn't feel much better about it. I didn't reach my goal. There was, is nothing I can do about it but try again next year. It wasn't until this morning that my thoughts changed.

One of the things that has been significantly different for me and my training over the past nine months is that I frequently ride with a group. My Saturday custom, when we don't have a race, has become for the women racers to head together. The Hub ride is the normal choice and we ebb and flow with our numbers. We ride, try to hold on with the boys through at least Geyer, and then settle in and spin together. We have breakfast, we ride more. It's a lot of fun. I have spent endless hours with Steph, Kate and Alice on these trips and never come away in a bad mood. I have a weeknight tradition as well--I spend an evening spinning and playing with my favorite tris. (That one is really amazing because I typically lament about multi-sporters poor handling skills!)

As I clicked in this morning, I realized that the fun of this bike season has been my journey: my hours with my friends, the epic, silly situations we create, the strange things we see and odd conversations we have. I missed my goal but I have gained so much more. You see, these three women, along with a whole lot more, have become my friends. They're my teammates on a different team. They're a big reason for my addiction to the bike. I've gotten so caught up in pursuit and achievement that I didn't truly appreciate the race I was winning all along.

I've set a new goal for myself. This one will be a truly long range achievement. My new goal is to enjoy my journey. I want to take time to notice how wonderful the short term strategies are and not miss out on the happiness they bring me.

Gaining Perspective

I've trained hard this season. My focus in life has been family and racing. I get up early on weekend mornings and spend long hours in the saddle. I've raced in rain and blistering heat. I watch what I eat and drink so that I can perform well. I schedule social events around my racing and workout schedule. None of this is because anyone is making me. I don't want people to admire me because of my passion for my sport. It's the lifestyle I have chosen because I love to race my bike.

Last season was a challenge. I didn't see a lot of success in racing in terms of results. I learned from my races, my mistakes, and I grew as bike racer. I hated crit and road racing. I struggled through them because I wanted to get better at them. I loved time trialing because it was me against a clock and I didn't have to worry about anyone else. Still, my results were weak. I decided to take up cyclocross so that I could maintain fitness over the winter. I didn't want to lose the physical gains I had made. Something changed during the fall. While cx races are similar to crits, they're very different as well. I fell in love with cyclocross. My results in cx were no better than my results in crits, but I was having fun. I looked forward to Sunday at noon. I had withdrawals when the season ended in December. It propelled me enough to keep riding, it kept me going in 12 degree weather. I trained through the cold. I was ready for Froze Toes. I actually made the break on that race. The first crit of the season arrived and something was very different. I was competitive and I was having fun. All season I've built on my successes. I still don't like road races, but have grown to love the fast-paced tempo of the crit.

I've planned this season with the end in mind. I had two goals: win the mobra competition and take home a state jersey. I didn't care which of the three state jerseys I took, I would be happy with any of them. The state road race was first, and I bonked terribly. That was okay because there was still two to go. Then I crashed last week. I have put pressure on myself to rehab and recover from it so that I could be my best. I skipped no workout and took more acetomeniphin and ibuprofen than I have in the past year. I raced the time trial yesterday and did the best I could. I knew going into the race I hadn't focused on training for time trialing, so my goal was to be strong. I was. But I didn't win.

It all came down to today. I felt great this morning, nervous, but great. I got to the course, registered, dropped off my wheels and got ready. I got a great warm up and pulled to the line. There were only four of us: Britta, Kate, Nicole and me. Instructions, whistle, go. Kate and I sat on the front for about half a lap and Britta pushed passed. She wanted to work, fine with me. She pulled three laps before she sat up. I moved in line and took a lap. Kate took her turn. Somewhere Nicole fell off. And that's how it went. We took our turns, did our work and went round and round. Six to go, five, four, three, two and I took my pull. We came around the last turn on the course and I sat up to let Kate take her pull. I moved in behind Britta. We went past the start finish, around turn one and into turn two and Kate took off. I stayed on Britta's wheel and she reacted well to Kate. She was back on Kate's wheel by the bottom of the hill. The pace stayed high as we climbed and did the small descent before the steep climb. On the climb, Britta went around Kate. I stayed on her wheel. I was going to let her lead me out. We zigged through the parking lot portion and made the final turn. I went close on the inside. Scraped, slide, fear. My pedal hit the curb. My back tire fishtailed. I held onto the bike and recovered. I went wide and came close to the curb on the other side but straightened out. Britta was riding away with it. I was up and working. Spin and gear, spin and gear. I was gaining. Spin and gear. I was driving that bike as hard as I could. I was on her wheel. Up to her pedal. There's her fork. There's the finish. I didn't make it.

I dropped my head in disbelief. All of this for second; no jersey. My spirit dropped. I congratulated Britta and Kate for good racing. I smiled as I talked to teammates who told me I raced well. But it wasn't what I wanted. I text and emailed the people who needed to know my result and headed up for a medal. I pushed Kate to check about the jersey from yesterday and she won it. I'm so happy for her because she'd focused on the tt all season and her work paid off. I'm glad she and I rode to the race together, because it would have been a long two hour drive home alone in the mood I was in. I put my bag down when I got home and pouted. Klucker tried to boost me. He and Steph had already reminded me that I have a strong, solid lead in Mobra and that's more impressive than one race. Yeah, whatever. I was still down. I wanted the win. I wanted the jersey. (Maybe I should have listened better to that "Thou shall not covet" message in Sunday school.)

I finally went to shower and put my wet clothes away. As I was cleaning out my bag, I grabbed my medal to show the kids. They love any bling I bring home and are always happy for me. Then I went to hang my medal on the mirror where I keep them. Wow, so that's what I've done this season. And oh my, those are all from this season. Ok, so today didn't end how I would have liked. I wanted the jersey. I may never win one, I realize this. For me, this seemed like my best chance. What I did do today, was race well. I held a wheel and worked how I wanted to work. I positioned myself where I wanted to be. I answered the attacked. I held through a skid and recovered. I sprinted like I stole the bike. I will be ok. I will race Gateway Cup and finish my season strong. And, barring something unforeseen, I will win Mobra. It's a good perspective to have.

Race Report: MO State TT

The ride out to Jefferson City was great. We got there, picked up numbers and headed to the start finish. It was humid and a bit windy ~10-12mph, probably around 85 degrees with sunshine. Sam got the bikes ready while I pinned on my number and I headed out for a warm up. I came back to pull to the line and found out the start was delayed about 20 minutes. I grabbed an ice pack and stuck it in my skinsuit and headed out to continue spinning. Another 12 minutes on the warm up and I headed to the line.

As I moved up, I chatted with Larry. I pulled to the line and got my countdown--no holder. I got the whistle and took off. I clipped in and did a few more out of the saddle pedal strokes before settling in the bars. I concentrated on breathing and cadence. I was a few minutes in when I looked down to see where I was with those numbers and realized I hadn't started my computer. I hit my button and kept going.

The course was right at 40K. It was very flat with only a few small rises, probably not even at 1%. It was out and back in what I would consider a boomerang shape. The line of the road made the wind difficult. I would have a true head or tail wind only for a few minutes before it would change direction. I hit the 10K mark and felt good, but it seemed like a long 10K to me. About 16 minutes in, I was passed by the guy who started two minutes back. I kept my focus on my cadence and pedal stroke. I felt some lactic burn in my legs, but they felt good. Right before the turn around, my minute woman and teammate Amy passed me. I don't know if she was trying to let me draft or not, but she didn't speed by me. I sat in behind her for a few minutes and felt good enough to go around her again. Right before the turn, I began feeling my ribs and my elbow. The pain wasn't unbearable, but a dull ache. I hit the turn and heard Amy tell me to take it first. She was right behind me. She immediately passed me afterwards. I couldn't hold onto her this time. I saw Vince, who started three minutes behind me, was closing in on us. Within a mile, Vince passed me and was gaining on Amy as well. I kept them close until we got to the 30K mark. Also, sometime in there, the guy who started 10 minutes behind me passed me like I was sitting still.

I struggled with focus during the last quarter of the race. I couldn't get comfortable on my bike. I would move my arm to lessen the ache and would feel off. About two miles from the finish, I hit a wall of wind. It was pure headwind and I struggled to hold 20 mph. I talked myself through, repeating spin, not fight, spin, not fight. About 1000 meters out I could see the line and added gear. I kept spinning myself up and adding gear, when I knew I could hold it, I added more.

I can tell by soreness in my glutes that my form/pedal stroke was off. I assume that's a result of my injury. That being said, the woman who finished first was at 1:04--a tri on a one-day. This was the first Cat 4 TT this season I didn't win. I'm ok with how I did...always would like the win, but I gave it all I had today.

The Aftermath

I hurt. I don’t like hurting. I can’t run, ride, move or breathe without being reminded of my crash. Showers are uncomfortable. Taking off a sports bra brings tears to my eyes. I cringe when my kids are on my right side because I’m afraid they’re going to bump the wrong area. I haven’t slept well in days because moving or rolling over wake me up because I jostle a sore spot.

I’ve tried to be proactive about my injuries. I diligently iced my hip 15 on/15 off during my drive home from Springfield. I stopped every hour and stretched as well. I spent more money than I won on good first aid supplies to protect my road rash. I’ve seen the world’s most wonderful chiropractor twice for adjustments, ART, kinesiotaping and muscle stimulation, but I still hurt.

I feel like a guy. I don’t like being injured and I don’t take it well. I don’t lay on the couch and whine, but I can’t sit on the sidelines either. And then I get crabby because I hurt or can’t perform as well as I think I should. My friends and family outside of the racing community don’t get it. They just tell me to rest. They don’t understand that my last seven months have been building for the two races coming up this weekend. I’m not going to be 100% for them. The best I can hope for is 80%. Is my 80% going to be enough to take against everyone else’s best form? I will be a Cat 3 racer next year, I will race hard, but I know my chances of taking a state race will be slim. This is my last best chance for a jersey.

I did power sprints this morning. The deep breaths weren’t as painful as I expected, but getting out of the saddle made me wince every time. I know the girls against whom I am competing, and as much as they care about me, they won’t take it easy on me and they shouldn’t. How will I react to the attacks? Can I stay on? Can I give the sprint I’ll need to give at the end? I don’t know if I can even support my weight in the aero position for the tt .

I believe there are a reason and a purpose for everything. I am trying to maintain a good perspective on this. I now know how I will react if I go down; I’ll get back up and race. I know my injuries could have been worse—the girl who hit me/ran over me has a broken wrist. I know this weekend I will give my all to my races and I will learn something about myself and my skills. I always do. And I know that even if I was healthy, I would be going up against tough competition and anything could happen.

It Was Bound to Happen Sooner or Later!

What a day! Let's start with the course...I loved it! It had seven corners, all 45 degrees, the pavement was beautiful, and there were some false flats but no real climbs. It was about 75 and overcast at race time. The second half of the course had wind to contend with, but not awful.

I got to the course, registered and did laps. Women's 4s was the first race, so I was able to do my warmup on the course. We pulled up to the line and had about seven in our field. A few triathletes, two other bike racers, and a few first time racers. We also had about 12! juniors in our race.

We got the go and the ABCycles girl took off. I had flashbacks of Carondelet and wasn't about to let that happen. I immediately went after her and by turn four was on her wheel. I hung on her wheel for the first three laps until she finally got tired pulling. (I was willing to let her go the whole race.) I took a pull, and waved Mandy (Tyson) around. I realized as I moved back, I realized there were only four of us by this point. We took turns pulling. At one point, the ABCycles girl tried an attack, I answered and held her wheel. We had about a half block gap when she sat up. I urged her to keep going, but she was spent. The others, with some lapped riders, jumped back on. We again took turns at pulls. It came down to 3 to go, then 2, then the last lap.

The ABCycles girl took off after turn five. I went after her and sat on her wheel until the final turn. I had figured out a good sprint point during my warm up so I knew where to start. I eased into my drops at turn six. We made turn seven and I was up and off. I added gears and spun up until I crossed the line. Win number two for me in the books! SA-WEET!

I went back to registration and got my Women's Open number. There was Aubree Dock from Tulsa Tough. She's a strong, strong three. I knew then the Open race was not going to be a walk in the park. I spun easily around the neighborhood and kept my legs warm. The 4/5 race ended and I jumped back on the course for a few laps. The clouds had cleared and the sun was out in full force by the time we pulled to the line.

Nine women lined up, beside Aubree, Pam Hinton, the women's open MO RR champ was there. Three other women from the 4's race was there and another girl, Megan, in her first race ever. We got the whistle and Pam went out hard. I went right after her. My legs felt great and I was ready to play! The first lap was fast. We got back to the start/finish and it calmed down. Pam, Aubree, and the girl in yellow were happy taking pulls. I made sure to sit 4th or 5th wheel so I would be ready to answer anything that went. About three laps in, Pam yelled at Megan because she was all over the place. Pam and Aubree gave a few more attacks, and I felt comfortable going after them each time. I took my turn pulling, but made sure not to work more than I needed to. 21 minutes in came the prime bell. I toyed with what I wanted to do. I decided to wait and see who jumped. Pam and the girl in the yellow went. I gave chase, but just enough to stay on their wheels and not be gapped. The girl in yellow took it. Aubree and Pam each launched another attack. They were quickly reeled in. We cruised past the start finish with 38 minutes on the card. I remember thinking, next time we'll get 4 to go.

Mandy was in front pulling at this point. I was sitting second wheel and our pace had slowed. I knew to expect something, I just didn't know when. We made turn seven and Pam went. From her earlier attack, she always took the far right. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her coming. The girl in yellow was hot on her wheel. I was up and out of my saddle, ready to go with them. Holly Guacamole! Mandy wasn't going and there was her wheel. I moved right but still grazed it. We were on the cobble strip and I felt my back wheel go. KABOOM! Helmet meets cobbles, right side meets pavement. I heard skidding behind me and felt someone ride over me. It was Megan and down she went! I jumped up and tried to figure out whether to grab my bottles or bike first. Megan was face down and groaned. I wondered if she had broken a wrist or collarbone. My first thought was that I couldn't believe I had raced so hard and lost it so close to the sprint. Someone picked up my bike and I asked if it was ok. He said the chain was off. Somehow that caused me to think what Larry told us at the start, up until 4 to go, we got our free lap. We hadn't crossed the line with four to go when I crashed. I got a free lap!

I told the guy, "Give me my bike, I wanna race." I started fussing with it to get the chain on and I heard Richard ask me if I was ok. "I just wanna race." He told me ok and took my bike. I grabbed my bottles from someone. Larry was running down telling them to get me to the pit. Richard told me go and I ran 50 or so yards and went in the pit. Megan followed. The pace car came around and I saw the pack. We were warned to jump on the back. Someone gave me a push and I jumped on the back of the group. The crowd went nuts cheering. There were three to go and I immediately worked to get in a good spot. Somewhere on the lap I heard "Hey Big Shark, glad you're back." We got the bell and I was calm and ready. I was sitting sixth wheel and knew the sprint would be hard. The pace of the lap was fast. In no time we were on the finishing straight. Let's see how bad I was hurt. I was out of the saddle and sprinting with all I had. I ran out of gear and kept going. I knew I had 5th, but tried to take 4th from Pam. I came within a wheel of getting it!

I took a cool down laps and found the medics and let them clean me up. The sum of the damage is as follows: quarter size abrasion on my right knee, some good scrapes on my right forearm, a softball size lump on my right hip, pain on the right side of my rib cage when I take a deep breath. I know my run will be slow and laborious tomorrow. Hopefully, with some TLC, tape, and stim from Dr. Matt, the ride tomorrow afternoon won't hurt.

Roxi looks good. She'll need new bar tape. There's a scuff on my seat. Gotta love a ti titan! I think my helmet survived too. No holes in the kit...most of the road dirt came out in the wash, but there are a few marks there to remind me.

Crashes happen. They suck! If you're going to ride or race hard, you're going to meet the pavement at some point. If you never do, you're not going hard enough!

Race Report: Living the High Life on the Highroad

I usually do a lot of research for races when I'm not familiar with the course. I typically plot them on mapmyride.com and make myself post-it notes of what to expect and study it for a week prior to the race. I'm pretty happy I didn't on this one. Because, if I had, I probably wouldn't have raced today. Now, I knew I was getting into a hilly time trial. I knew this was the course the pros had used twice in the Tour of Missouri. And I knew there was at least one climb where I would probably need to come out of my aerobars. I had no idea how long and big thes climbs would be though.

It was a long drive down to the course and that gave me plenty of time to hydrate. I have to disclose that I did have a slight detour on one of my nature breaks. I thought I was turning on the road that led to the gas station, instead I was turning onto 44, heading back to StL. Oops! Other than that, my trip was calm.

I turned off of 65 and realized that I was actually driving in on the second half of the course. I was immediately intimidated. The hills were incredibly long. I got down to the end of the highway and parked. I was still trying to decide which bike I would ride. I was worried about riding the 11/23 on the TT bike and I had my road bike with the 12/27 on it. I decided to warm up on the course on my TT bike and see if I could handle the hills on it. On my way back from registration, I met the promoter and he advised the TT bike. He also told me to ride about the first four miles of the course and then come back. He said I would hit the biggest hill that way. He neglected to say the one immediate prior to that was only a slight bit shorter. Again, in this case ignorance was better.

The warm up went well, but I realized the second half was going to hurt. There was a diagnol wind, that coupled with the hills, had me crawling in some places and feeling unstable in my aeros on some of the downhills. I got back and continued to spin around to keep my legs warm. I put ice in my bra and and ice pack at my lower back and headed up to the start/finish. Larry called me up (I was the first on the course) and gave me a countdown. Just as I was taking off, the starting tent started to collapse! I ducked and pedalled and took off. The first down hill was less than a hundred yards. This is the first time I ever have been able to get this bike into the 54/12 and maintain a +90 cadence. I think I hit 44-46 on that first descent. The first climb was small. I was on the second longer climb when I was passed for the first time. It wasn't long after that I got passed again. This climb went on forever. It never got really steep, maybe 4-7% at the most, but it was long. There was a steep long descent and then another long climb to the turn around.

I made the turn and had a great descent. I was passed the third time there. The climbs on the way back were much harder. I found myself struggling to maintain a 50 cadence. I was able to stay in the aerobars on the descents, but had to sit up for the climbs. The last two climbs I had to alternate sitting and standing to climb to keep forward momentum. The final climb was about a mile long. I was glad I had pre-ridden it because it gave me a great psychological advantage when I was tired. I knew how much longer I had to go and could gauge how much I had left to give.

I did some light spinning for a little bit after the race and continued to hydrate. There were only three women racing today; no one in the Open race (yes, I tried to race it but they told me only 1/2/3). I finished about 4-5 minutes ahead of the woman in second and about 22 minutes in front of third place. It was a physically hard win, but a race I really enjoyed in spite of it. I'm glad I made the trip and hope tomorrow's crit goes as well.