Back to the Root

From Tom Zirbel:

So I raced locally this past Saturday. And it was my forte: a nice and long (23k), windy, rolling TT. The last TT I did was up against some of the best in the world and I fared pretty well. I was 20s or so from the current World Champion in the discipline and Ben and I were the top domestic pros. And even though the Boulder area is filled to the brim with pros, I was the only pro to show up for this TT. I’ve got this one in the bag, right? Nope.

Let’s start from the beginning: I wake up early Sat. morning (at the crack of 7a!) so that I have time to eat, pack the Tercel, drive to Ft. Collins (consume coffee along the way), park at my friend’s place, use her facilities, ride to the race start (approx. 25 mi away), sign waivers, pin #s, do some openers, yada, yada, and still have a little time to chat or whatnot. Good plan, eh? Just like in years past, I think to myself. Going solo. It wasn’t so long ago, I think. Stuffing bikes and gear into my compact car and heading off to the next big race. Every bike racer knows what I’m talking about, it’s just that pros sometimes forget (or want to). The days when you drove yourself to races, you filled your bottles and pockets w/ the race food that you bought, you raced on the bike that you paid for, cleaned, and maintained. For the aspiring pro this is called The Starving Cat. 1 Racer Sydrome. Because of all the time and energy it takes to train properly for this sport, an aspiring pro will usually not be able to hold a ‘real’ job while trying to make the jump to the pro ranks. And what little money the cat. 1 does earn will go to replacement parts, race food, gas money, entry fees, etc. The remainder goes toward various flavors of Ramen and generic mac&cheese.

So as I start off on my warmup from Ft. Collins to race start, I’m about 10 min. behind schedule. Talked a little too long w/ Jen, I think to myself. Ah, good thing I budgeted extra time! I’m feeling very self-sufficient at this point. Then I turn north. Holy cow, it’s windy!! Hmmm, I’m definitely too stubborn to turn around and drive to the start, but on the other hand, 20 of the 25 miles that I have to ride will be into this 30mi/hr headwind. Grrr. Better go harder. So I’m slogging away, “warming up” which is more accurately “starting my workout” so that I’m not late for my start time when my crank arm starts to come loose. Crap! I don’t carry an 8mm allen key w/ me! Dang it Steve-O! You’re going to make me miss my start because YOU didn’t tighten my……oh wait. I guess I was the one who tightened that bolt after taking off the cranks to fly back to Denver w/ my bike. Ugh. Guess I have to blame myself. So I find the nearest farm house (I’m way out in the country by now) and come upon a man who is working on his bike (though his is of the motorized variety) and after much digging and beard scratching, he finds the tool I seek and I’m pretty sure that that was the first and only time his 8mm allen key will be used. I thank him and am on my way again after only 6.5 minutes. Ooh boy. Better give it some stick now if I want to make that start time. More headwind. I’m not going to lie to you, I can think of a few occasions where my morale and motivation has been higher. Driving me now is pride. I don’t want to miss my start, and I sure as heck am not going to scrap this race and turn back now. Ah finally, the registration tent! O.k., I check my start time – 11:19a. I check the official race time – 11:14. Hmmm. “Ahem, sorry to be rude, but I have 5 min. to get to the start house, do you suppose I could cut in line?” Yep, I was that guy. “Whoa. You better get going! Here, I’ll pin your number.” Thanks, I respond. Kinda feeling like a tool here. She finishes pinning my number and I turn to shake her hand and thank her. She looks very familiar so I ask her name. “Georgia”. Oh. Georgia Gould. The woman who has been ripping legs off in the mountain bike scene. No time for small talk, must get to start ramp. I roll up to the line, “Are you #81?” Yup. “Heck, you have 43s to spare. Why’d you get here so early?” Sarcasm. If he only knew. Honestly, at this point I’m just happy to be here on time. Ok, time to race. 7mi south w/ massive tailwind, flip it, and finish w/ 7 miles of pure fun. I didn’t catch a rider until about 8mi into the race yet I caught my minute man at the ToC TT about 6mi in. Bad sign. Don’t think, just go hard, I tell myself. As I finish that interminable last 7 mi, I am struggling to keep breakfast down while getting oxygen to all my screaming muscles. I’m a wreck. I’m always a wreck after a TT but I never get used to it. My minute man, whom is a strong TTer and whom I didn’t catch, tries to carry a conversation w/ me minutes after my finish. He’s going on about average speeds and whether I closed on him and all I can think about is extracting this giant loogey that is starting to block my breathing passage. I don’t care who won or how fast I went on the way out – just let me breathe! I’m starting to return to the living now and he goes on to tell me that he’s basically retired from racing but had been training a bit and decided he’d give this TT a try. He also tells me he’s working more and spending more time with his kids. Huh. Me who gets paid to ride my bike and more specifically to win TTs, didn’t catch this dad who has a full time job and “retired” from racing last year. I don’t dwell on this line of thinking. I’m in a good mood now. My legs are no longer filled w/ acid and my breathing rate is fairly normal, and you know what the best part is? I get a tailwind back to my car! This racing business is pretty cool. And man does this little episode help me appreciate Steve-O, Kaycee, Glen, Mark and everyone else who helps me do everything except pedal at the races. I’ve got it good.

Epilogue: I finished 3rd on the day. My minute man, Kevin Nichol, won the race in convincing fashion. However, top 3 in each category get medals mailed to them. I’m going to be checking the mail with enthusiasm every day until I receive that hard-earned medal.

Results can be found at: http://americancyc.web152.discountasp.net/Results/FrostBiteTT.htm