I wasn't sure what race to do. There is a cat4 only race, Masters 30+, cat 3/4, and mens open. I opted for the mens 3/4, knowing that the Open was going to be the "A" race and that I would be eaten alive in that one. Now it is important to understand that this is a much smaller scene that STL. Checking over the results for the previous races I noted that the largest category was only 20 dudes give or take. I went into what would be the equivalent of the traditional "B" race expecting a mid pack finish, but with mild delusions of a podium spot, and maybe a Wheaties endorsement deal or something. Anything could happen in the 3/4 race. This is me on the start line, unknowingly facing near total anihilation.
(1 or 2 more guys raced, for a total of 10 or 11)
The bell sounded and we were off. I got a good jump off the line and started out hard to try and hold it. This did not work. 2 guys fly past me almost immediately followed by 2 more and 2 more. I was able to hold this place for about a lap. I settled into the fastest pace I could keep for any length of time and tried to hold on. This also did not work as I soon found myself being passed again and hanging off the back with only 2 guys behind me. The rest of the pack had a rapidly growing gap on me, and one of the guys behind was starting to nip at my heels. I held him off for a lap, maybe two, but he eventually passed me and I was struggling to hang on. I passed him again at one point, but not for long. He came around again and I was unable to respond. I spent the next 2 laps trying to bridge the gap, riding way above my head. This also did not work. Here we are either right before or right after I passed him:
(Note that he has horns. Like the devil)
By the last lap I had accepted my fate and kept pushing because I obviously need the training. I did snap at least one wrist, and I will do the 3/4 race again next time. Hopefully next time I am in a little better condition. I still have two weeks (11/28) and I have had a taste of what the pace will be like.
It was definitely different without my jerk ass teammates and friends from STL. I made multiple attempts to hand off a beautiful PBR 24oz'er to the leaders in the A race, and to no avail. Finally a gentleman named Pace (who ironically was in the back of the pack) who had been eyeing the beautiful PBR 24oz'er that I myself was drinking during his race gladly took it and crossed the finish line in style. Scott and I had some PBR 40's during that race too which I think contributed to our not thinking to capture photographic evidence of the handoff. You jerks need to come teach these people how to drink and race at the same time, except of course for the 15 year old kid that I inadvertently offered a beer handoff. He was in third in the "A" race. How was I supposed to know? We need a few more people to party like this guy, a resident of the park the race was held in.
(Nice fella letting us race in his living room, passed out about 10ft from the course)
The course was awesome. It looked pretty flat from the parking lot, but the backside contained all the ingredients for a pain train. Tight downhill S-turns, tight uphill S-turns, and even S-turns on flat ground with barriers midway through the turn just for kicks. There was a sand pit that was in the middle of a playground complete with actual children that somehow seemed deeper each time I waded through it. Where is the Park Tools Vagina De-sandifier (VGS-12) when you need it. There was even a concrete drainage ditch at the bottom of a short downhill, which looked worse than it was, but it still kept you on your toes.
All in all it was a good time, although not quite as rowdy as the STL races. This is the 3rd year they've had the series, as it goes on more people will get involved. I would like to try and host a race in the series here in Prescott. Maybe a couple to fill out the schedule a little bit. A little bit bigger turn out would be nice. That's all I've got to say except that Kid Rock sucks, even more than knee deep sand pits. Even more than dreaming that you pissed the bed, only to wake up and find out that you really pissed the bed. Until next time, I bid you goodnight.
