Hillsboro Roubaix
What do you say about a race that you have never finished? Oh sure, I'm sure I could have finished some of them if I wanted to ride alone for half the race. But, that's not my cup of tea. Especially on days like this with a strong winds.
The weather was nice. Sun was abundant. Warmth, a little less so. Temperatures were comfortably in the 50's, however, so there is reason to complain.
If I wanted to complain, I would mention the stop, accelerate, stop, accelerate, stop, accelerate... that happened much too often in the first five or six miles. I had Cat 5 flashbacks.
My legs were crap from the very start. This was not helped by being on back end of the pack and suffering ever present accordian affect. Thirteen or fourteen miles into the race I finally let a gap open up. I didnt quit though and I chased for a little while and managed to catch onto the tail of the pack again for a few miles only be stung a little while later.
A larger gap opened and then, inconceivably, the gap leveled out and was staying steady. One man against ninety. I caught and dropped a few others that had fallen off the pace and carried on in pursuit of the pack, just up the road.
Miracles do happen. I rounded a left hand turn and found the field neutralized by an official for repeated violations of the center line rule. Thanks for giving me a second life, guys.
We began rolling again and my legs could not respond. Almost immediately I began fading off the back. A mile or two later I turned on the main road heading into town with a gap of 20 or 30 seconds. Once again, my legs suddenly seemed to come to life into a cross/headwind. Push, push, push. Am I imagining things? Am I actually getting a little closer? Push, push, push. I again catch and drop a handful of riders that fell of the pace.
Sure enough. Slowly, gradually I reeled in the pack and caught a little breather for a few miles. All the chasing was for naught. Once we reached the two hills before reaching town I again drifted off the back. I tossed in the towel this time and only gave a half-hearted effort on the finishing circuit.
I was done and pulled out of the race after the first of two laps. It seemed more prudent to save the legs for Sunday's crit than beat myself up for no reason.
The weather was nice. Sun was abundant. Warmth, a little less so. Temperatures were comfortably in the 50's, however, so there is reason to complain.
If I wanted to complain, I would mention the stop, accelerate, stop, accelerate, stop, accelerate... that happened much too often in the first five or six miles. I had Cat 5 flashbacks.
My legs were crap from the very start. This was not helped by being on back end of the pack and suffering ever present accordian affect. Thirteen or fourteen miles into the race I finally let a gap open up. I didnt quit though and I chased for a little while and managed to catch onto the tail of the pack again for a few miles only be stung a little while later.
A larger gap opened and then, inconceivably, the gap leveled out and was staying steady. One man against ninety. I caught and dropped a few others that had fallen off the pace and carried on in pursuit of the pack, just up the road.
Miracles do happen. I rounded a left hand turn and found the field neutralized by an official for repeated violations of the center line rule. Thanks for giving me a second life, guys.
We began rolling again and my legs could not respond. Almost immediately I began fading off the back. A mile or two later I turned on the main road heading into town with a gap of 20 or 30 seconds. Once again, my legs suddenly seemed to come to life into a cross/headwind. Push, push, push. Am I imagining things? Am I actually getting a little closer? Push, push, push. I again catch and drop a handful of riders that fell of the pace.
Sure enough. Slowly, gradually I reeled in the pack and caught a little breather for a few miles. All the chasing was for naught. Once we reached the two hills before reaching town I again drifted off the back. I tossed in the towel this time and only gave a half-hearted effort on the finishing circuit.
I was done and pulled out of the race after the first of two laps. It seemed more prudent to save the legs for Sunday's crit than beat myself up for no reason.
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