A Late Start

Zpack and I decided it was best to head up near Hollister the night before the Panoche Valley Road Race to keep stress low and avoid yet another 4 am wake up call.

The plan worked reasonably well in that we got a full nights rest... a little too full actually. We over slept, lost the directions and ended up checking in with only 20 minutes to spare... No big deal, plenty of time.

By the time I had suited up and made my obligatory visit to the Port-O-Johns there was 5 minutes till the start of our race. Seth rushed off to the Out House, I bent over so Elisa could start pinning on my number when I heard it.

PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Panic kicked in. A flat tire with only two minutes till the start of the race. My heart race jumped to 170 and I hastily began removing my Tire. I let the panic get to me and as I was pumping up the new tube a loud POP deafened my ear drums. I threw the wheel to the ground in a fit of rage and contemplated the ridiculousness of driving 4 hours to a race only to miss it on account of a stupid flat tire. As I was preparing to de-robe and throw in the proverbial towel my eye was caught by another tire I had grabbed before leaving the house that was partially buried underneath a mountain of misc bags, towels, shirts, and undies. I took it as a sign- Brought focus to my breath and began my second tire change of the day. This time I was calm, collected and in control. I changed the tire in under a minute and inflated it via CO2. I chugged a V8, crumbled the can on my forehead like a Frat- tastic in his first Beer Chugging competitions and rushed to the line.

All I could see was a sea of silver hair reflecting the now 90+ degree sunshine. Drats I though, they started on time today. I flagged down the official, yelled "I got a flat, I'm chasing", He signaled me through and I took off like a cannonball on its last run.

10 minutes later the lactic build up in my legs was more than painful. I wasn't warmed up, not even a little. I looked behind me and saw the 45 plus field gaining fast. They overtook me. I rested for 10 minutes, regained my legs and blasted off the front of their field holding 4 digits in the air so they would know I was a Cat 4 and posed no threat. I buried my head and for the next hour and a half rode like my life depended on it. I got to the first hill, shifted into my small ring, then thought of Cookie riding by yelling "BIG RING CHESTER" I shifted back up, returned my focus to my breathe and danced my way up the accent. I was passing cats whose number series was the same as mine. This was good. The race was NOT over, not even close. I felt strong... Picked up a few stragglers and gave words of encouragement but they couldn't hold my wheel. Their race was done... Mine was just beginning.

I neared the turn around, snot dripping from nose in a long ooze and resting squarely on my quads, flailing in the wind. I saw the lead group. Seth held up his hands in a motion that was asking "what happened". They still had a good 4 minutes on me.

I hit the turn around and was brought to a near stand still by the gnarly head wind. This was good. I can use this. I thought to myself.

I focused on my breath and radiated energy from my breath to my quads, spine, arms, and eyes. I glanced up the road and saw the chase group. I caught the chase group.
They were not chasing. They were surviving.
"You guys racing for 20th place? The race is up the road- Lets GO!" I patted my right gluteus in a gesture I hoped would draw one or two strong riders still hungry.

I heard a voice pierce the headwind "ON!" This meant a rider had bridged. This was good. Two are stronger then one. I pushed on and buried myself. He pulled through. I recovered. He pulled over. I dropped my head and dropped the hammer. I pulled over... Nothing. I looked back and saw no one. I returned focus on my breathe.

Towards the top of the climb the 45 plus field caught me. I moved to the far right but a draft benefit was inevitable. I was hurting now and I used their pack for a couple minutes to recover. then I jumped off the front and buried myself some more... The pain was excruciating... They caught me... I moved right... they passed me. I knew I couldn't work with them so I tried again... Deeper into the pain... They caught me again. I let then go- I was not going to get around them... The last 3 miles to go. I was NOT going to catch the lead group.

I saw the officials tent, and orange cones, I stood up and gave it everything I had. I finished strong.
I finished 16Th.
Their were 65+ starters.
I had started nearly 7 minutes back and finished only 40 seconds or so behind the lead group.
I thought to myself.
"This has been my finest performance this year."
THIS WAS A VICTORY!