The Masters Champs.

Well, Chalk Creek RR delivered the usual scorching temps, dehydration, and resulting cramps. I entered this, my first road race as an M35+, with the hope of helping a teammate to a podium finish. A few miles into it I wasn't sure I would even be able to finish. Since my injury I've been mostly riding a lot of tempo and threshold, but no short intervals. I quickly learned that my recovery was not up to par with that of folks who may have been racing the weekly crits. I did my best to react to the threatening moves, but at some point I realized that I'd have to be more frugal with my energies to finish the race. My teammates were a bit more ambitious.

As we turned onto the Chalk Creek road proper Andre, just back from the Alps and probably suffering from jet lag, took a flier after a lone escapee. The one and only B-Horn was soon to join him, but as luck would have it both of them were stopped by a herd of cows, which then carefreely let the chasing pack right through. Soon after, the Hoov (also a recent transplant from the French Alps) would have his chance. This was probably the most promising move of the day. At one point together with his breakaway companion Sean had some 2 minutes on the pack. I was a bit upset at the ref for giving us time splits. WTF? Is there some non-neutrality rule that I'm not aware of? Did someone pay him for that? Every time he'd shout out the split time, someone would either attack or start chasing hard. Was he, the referee particularly keen on seeing the break reeled in? FYI, I don't have a problem with teammates or family members on sidelines trying to assist that way, but it's not the ref's job to interfere or assist in race tactics.

Anyway, Sean was back in the pack after the turnaround point and looking a bit dehydrated. Scott, our UCA points leader had a bit of bad luck when he flatted some 15 miles from the finish. Unbelievably, he was back in the pack after a few minutes though I think that effort probably took a lot out of him. Coincidentally, I started to feel better as the race headed home. Not only was I going to survive, I was going to contend. There were a few more attacks which I was able to cover, but a pack finish seemed inevitable. I wasn't sure if I wanted to follow the first wheel up the finishing straight or stay back and hope that everyone will blow before the finish line. I sort of went hard from the bottom and it earned me a 5th place. I think I was limping in the small chainring by the 200 m mark. That was the longest 200 meters that I've ever ridden! The water that was handed to me right after the finish must have soaked right through my hand, because I don't remember drinking it. Anyways, I consider 7/26/2008 to have been a good day. I wasn't terribly dehydrated when I got home and I peed soon after. ;-)