MASStiff: SnowMASS NORBA number last

Snowmass Round II: this time I was racing against the BIG DAWGS. And they didn't appreciate playful puppy ways. So it's interesting....my coach is at most of my National races leading clinics. And I've yet to have a stellar National finish. I did have a great Time Trial in Phoenix. Finished 3rd, and could have improved that had I not made one silly mistake of being geared too high for a steep embankment. (as I digress).

Well, this weekend was an exception in some ways and not at all in others. We strategized and I did as I was told. I just didn't have the girl power to maintain my early BOLD MOVE. 21 Expert Women 19-29 on the line- the biggest field of the season. We were a mix of groups: those who did all of the National Series, those who hit up BIG Colorado races, and those who had a week off from MSC and wanted a little more fun-hater racin'. We went off the line like pro-wanna-bes and were off to a nice fast start. We climbed single track for a bit, nose to tail, as horses do. Then we hit the paved section leading into the next long section of single track.

That is where I made my move, my bold, risky, potentially deadly move. I went from 18th position to 3rd. The 2 lead riders were already pulling away from the pack. So I lead the pack into the trail. I pushed, and pushed, and my heart rate sky-rocketed. My body was begging for some sort of recovery....anything- Spin an easy gear, coast, anything. But I had 18 women nipping my heels. So I kept it in the middle ring and cranked. I got out of the saddle every chance I could. And I held onto this burst of the next 6 miles or so. But by the time we came out of single track way up the side of the mtn I was toast- blackened and crispy. 3 riders came around me on the fire road. I attacked but it was like a moth trying to get out of the car window. I batted my wings and only left a little dust to show for it. Sad- really.


By the time I came through the feed zone I was sitting in 6th position. Rather than impress the coach I think I gave her a little more reason to scheme what my off season punishment will be. Another lap around the top of the mountain and I dropped back 3 or 4 more places. By that point I felt like someone had injected me with sedatives and told me to race my bike. I was totally fatigued. My red blood cell weren't up to their usual potential.


With a hard slap on the ass as I came through the feed zone the second time, Al told me to finish it off for the sake of pride. And I did, for the sake of pride, I gave it all I had (all, being very little) right up to the line. My body was trembling when all was said and done.


I was reminded of how far I've come and how incredibly far I have to go. And it was all yellow, no, RED. Hat's off to redlining.