The perks of racing - part deux

I signed up to race the 40-49 men's race this past weekend for training. The women's race was the last group in the afternoon and I could not work it in my schedule to race at 4 p.m. Racing at 9:30 for 50 miles opened up many possibilities of attending to other aspects of my life.

The perks of racing or "extras" as I was saying to the trapped, I mean captive listeners in the van - is buying alcohol when traveling out of Pennsylvania! I am all about getting great beer and wine at the lowest cost possible. Since most of my racing takes me out of state, I google for the nearest Costco, Wine and More, Trader Joes, Wild Oats or look for a discount liquor store. I spotted a discount liquor store off of Route 15 South, right near Mount St. Mary's University. I noted that for the drive home.

I carpooled with some of the hardest core racers in Lancaster County, John Spittal, Bill Care and my honey - Brad Ober (Dwayne Clinton was off racing in NJ). Again, I had a brain fart registering for the 40-49 men's race. We had to pre-register for the race. I wanted the 50 miles and knew I would not last long but really, what was I thinking?! Even if I started on the front, I would have been flushed to the back during the neutral start with 90 guys and the yellow line rule. I did not read the flyer well enough to realize that I could have registered for the 50-59 race as it started at 9:35 for 50 miles. Luckily, I worked it out with the promoter and officials to switch races (THANK YOU!)

We have been having FABULOUS weather the last few days of low humidity with temperatures in the high 70s, low 80s. But with it being so dry, I offered to Brad and John that if I happened to get dropped, I would go to the feed zone to feed them.

The 50-59 men's field had about 30 riders. And this age group is of stellar quality, too. Just the duration of the efforts usually less than the 40+ guys. The first two laps on the 10 km loop were pleasant as I sat third wheel. Into the third lap, some guy rolled off the front and gained 30 seconds on us. Randy Thrasher put the hammer down and so the racing began. There were some rollers on the course and with my waning fitness, I got flushed to the caboose over the last major rise, going into the fourth lap. Spinning like a mad woman, suffering on the false flat, I got disconnected as I about plowed into a guy who dropped his chain. Ping! The cord had been cut. The train kept a rollin'. Another winding, flat, false flat to the next riser and I did not reconnect. I worked to catch one rider; worked together to catch two more and tried to work together to ah, continue getting a workout.

It was getting hot. The finish was at different spot than the lap counter on the circuit. I waved to the officials that I was DONE. I rolled to the feed zone. Within a few minutes, the 40+ break comes flying down the hill to a flat stretch that was the feed zone. I stand in the middle of the lane, arms waving above so the GS Lancaster guys could spot me. (How could they not in my hunter orange racing kit) R. Muoio, an old teammate from LSV/Trek now called Kelly Benefit Strategies/LSV Amateur Cycling, was the tallest in the break and took advantage of my feed. Doaph! R got a great grab as a bunch of water squirted out of the bottle as they traveled at least 30 mph through the zone. I was so glad I got popped to feed other guys in Brad's break. Great.

With one last feed to go, I hung out bumming water from a DC Velo feeder. An old teammate of Brad's was in the zone with me as he broke his pedal/crank arm in the first lap of his race. I situated myself at the beginning of the feed zone and Dave towards the end. The were flying down the hill into the zone. I heard Brad yell, "Guys, slow down, I need a feed." I braced myself; arm as far out as I could stretch it, holding the bottle from the top; nipple open and poof. It was out of my hand into his - thank goddess! Then at the same time, bottles were flying out of the break at me (R. yelled thanks as one accidentally welted me in the thigh). Down at the other end of the zone, Dave tries to feed Spittal but he did not need it and ducked under Dave's arm probably thinking who in the hell is he trying to feed?

I rolled the long way to the finish for the miles and the guys were flying. The break caught me in the final lap before the last turn for the final stretch to the finish. Ugh. Dave Osborne was off the break with a 15 second gap. The word I heard was he attacked after Brad and Spittal's attacks. The group said "let him wear himself out". Did they forget that he is Dave Osborne? They never touched him. Action happened on the last three rollers but all I know is the finish. R 2nd, Spittal 3rd and Brad 4th.

Hung out in the parking lot for the usual GS Lancaster wait for official results and prize money. Thankfully I packed fruit and nuts to eat while we waited. I used the opportunity to get my "extra". "Can we stop on the way home for beer? I will be quick; in and out." Spittal was thirty so he was game. Coronas, more Chimays and Duval.