Conquistador

I recently read that the main reason people don't race bicycles is that it's hard. Duh. But when you think about that it makes a little bit of sense. If you don't enjoy the suffering or get that feeling of accomplishment from doing something difficult you probably won't be back after the first race.

This past weekend at the FSC race at San Felasco the woods were perfect, the temperature was perfect, in fact everything was perfect. I had just picked up a leftover 2010 Epic for Rupe the Friday before and he was ready to roll when we got there Saturday morning. We pulled into the big hay field in the back under blue skies, unloaded, and set out for our first sight in lap. Other riders told me the layout was completely different from last year and that Gone Riding had used the new Conquistador section as part of this year's loop. We had ridden this trail this past summer and I knew it contained some pretty big climbs for Florida. Even with that in mind I was so excited to be riding I hammered up the first two. About half way up the third one I started feeling a little queasy and I noticed I was breathing really hard. I told myself "hey old man this is practice" so we backed it down some and I was glad we did because we climbed that same hill another 3 times. After we took a second and even slower lap we were tired but still looking forward to the race the next day. In fact I was feeling pretty froggy since I knew New Steve wasn't coming and neither was Flyin Frank and with virtually nothing really technical on the course I thought, dare I say it, I had a chance to stand on the top step.

Race day we lined up for the 11:30 start time under the same perfect conditions as the day before. I noticed a couple of new faces in the old slow class but most of the pre race chatter was about surviving the hills. Yea I was feeling downright confident, so confident I grabbed the lead heading up the two track only to lose it on the power line before we hit the single track. No problem I thought, I'll just hang here in 5th and wear them out when we hit the hills. Just then 4th cross rutted and stopped right between two trees completely blocking my path but not the next three riders who just went around both of us. Now all that confidence was quickly replaced by complete panic. I said something rude to the offending rider and set out after the quickly disappearing conga line.

I learned one thing, passing riders on an uphill is hard. Some just let me by others I had to coax out of the way. The sick feeling from yesterday was coming back, I started to get a stitch in my side, and I knew I couldn't keep that pace up for long. I was on 3rd place's wheel coming out of the woods and let her (yea her) break the head wind across the field and through the scoring chicane. This lady is very popular, people were cheering her, telling her "he's right behind you", and I thought I heard some boos when I passed her. I was even afraid to take a drink until I put a little distance on her and by the time I did my throat was so dry I almost couldn't swallow. I kept watching her and figured if I could maintain that distance until we hit the hills again I at least had a spot on the box. That's when I saw 2nd place not that far ahead. I slowly caught up to him and when he slipped on some rocks at the base of the hill I thought YES and went around.

I figured no way he could get clipped back in and get on my wheel but he did. As we heaved and panted up the hill he told me"first place is long gone". Turns out it was one of the new faces I had noticed at the start but I didn't care because I just knew I had this guy beat, he even slipped on a root and spun around, but was still able to stay on my wheel.

I did all the self talk I could to get my body to go faster. I knew that Monday I would tell myself that all I had to do was just dig deeper. But on that last hill, on Sunday afternoon, I just couldn't keep him behind me, and he went on to get second less than 45 seconds ahead of me.

Team Stormin Norman did pretty well for the day. Rupe got a third in his class and I was happier for him than I was for my results. We had some good race stories to share on the ride home and that's really what it's all about anyway isn't it?

"It's a beautiful day" U2