FUBAR...WTF...BS...

***WARNING STRONG LANGUAGE MAY FOLLOW***

Each of those acronyms is descriptive of the bike ride today. I won't call it a race because that fiasco doesn't deserve to be called a race. The postponement from last week should have been an omen to me to stay the hell at home. I'd like for one time to be able to go to a race and not break a sweat just changing clothes. I'm so sick of racing when it's 90 degrees and humid. I'm just a grumpy bitch right now. Sorry, but I pretty much feel like I wasted my time going down there to ride today, and I'm not happy. Gotta get this out now, as I don't have time for a crappy attitude this week. The hardest race I've ever tried is coming up Saturday in Lynchburg, and I want to be positive about it. SOOOO, out comes the frustration and aggravation of the day.

I don't know what the hell happened to the "race director/promoter," whatever you want to call it - clown might be appropriate, but they took a perfectly good way to start a race and turned it into the dumbest and most dangerous way to start a race I've ever seen. I guess I should stop bitching about this because everyone else managed fine, but I wound up on my friggin head with a bruised knee for my efforts. What part of that start was even logical? Start with 15 feet of asphalt right over non-rounded rocks. SURE, you can get alot of momentum for that. Oh yea, and go ahead and start all the sports, the clydesdales and single speeders at the same f'ing time. BRILLIANT! You sir are a moron.

So after I flipped over the rock garden, a mere 8 seconds into the race, I look up to see everyone else long gone. I spewed forth enough profanity to make a sailor blush. I was embarassed and pissed off. I spent way too much time trying to fix my chain, but it just wouldn't go back on. By the time I got going again, and was up the hill the beginners started. Lovely, I was already at least a minute and a half behind my competition. I initially tried to catch back up to them, but since this race starts by going uphill for 3/4 of a mile, I was screwed. If I had been trying to catch them on a downhill, I would have had more of a chance. By the time I got to the road crossing, everyone was out of sight. At the left hander onto the gravel, I thought maybe I'd see someone one. Nope, not there either, so I went down the slippery, lose rocks as quickly as I could. Maybe I'd catch them at the water crossing. NOPE. "well crap, guess I'm on my own. This is just f'ing great." I rode most of the way across the first water crossing before my front wheel hit something stopping my progress. I quickly stomped the rest of the way out of it and through the mud. YUK! By now I'm sure plenty of beginners were passing me. I started up Still Hill in granny gear and rode a bit of it before I started having pain in my left knee. I got off and started walking. What did I have to lose? Last is last.

The further I went in this first lap the more I felt like crap. My heart rate was elevated, my stomach was cramping - a first for me in a race and my knee was aching. I tried drinking some water to see if that would help my stomach - not really. Soon I would start feeling like I needed to barf. It was not a good day. My mood was horrendous and starting to feel sick didn't help. I ended up walking part of another hill. I was happy with my ability to descend safely. Some parts of the course were a guessing game. There weren't very many volunteers at this race.

At some point, my friend Reid came by and asked if I was ok, I think I replied something to the effect of "no, I'm not, and I don't think I can finish this." He was like, "it's only two more miles, and you can be done." I don't know if I answered. Then another friend, Danny had passed by, "are you ok?" Me, "no." Danny, "will you be ok?" Me, "yea eventually." He made sure I had water then went on his way. I'm sorry for being unkind, but I really wasn't feeling good at all - mentally or physically. The second water crossing actually was refreshing. I knew it was too deep for me to ride safely so I got off, hefted Ritchey onto my shoulder and waded on in. The water was cold and up to mid-thigh. I think this helped my heart rate go down, and I know it felt good on my knee.

Eventually I made it to the lap-split. The volunteers here directed me to the left for my second lap. I told them that I would try it, but didn't know if I'd come back. Who knows if they heard me or cared. They didn't seem to happy to be there. At this point, I felt somewhat better, so I decided to give it a whirl and do what I could. I knew it would be better for me psychologically to try to finish the race. I won't quit, I can't quit. I never really did go very fast the entire race except for the second time down the gravel hill. I was going too fast to make the left hand bend and ended up pulling off to the right into the path between the cornrows. I rode most of the way across the first water crossing again. I walked most of Still Hill, but not without completely stopping and having a drink of Gatorade. Once again, I figured I had nothing to lose as surely everyone else was long gone. Even the Experts had blown by. What a shitty day.

I caught up to a friend, April who races Novice at the deep water crossing. I grabbed my bike up and waded across. I passed her as we started up the trails again. I was able to climb the last section fairly well. I guess by now, my body was adjusting. Whatever. So I get to the water tank where I remembered the director saying something about a new finish. This amounted to taking a rooty, rocky hiking trail to a walking path, winding by the bridge (I thought he said to cross it, but was blocked by a sign?), around the edge of a picnic platform to a left hand turn then a right to making a sharp left onto a pea gravel road and to the finish. As I descended the hill, I saw Patrick (Anais' husband) sitting off to the side. I thought, "why is he still there? She's bound to be finished". I maintained my awkward balance as I got to the bridge, skittered a bit in the gravel, narrowly missing the jutted out edge of the picnic platform. Emerged from the tree line to hear Warren saying, "there's Jen. GO LEFT JEN." I think that I pedalled maybe three times and then was done. WTF? Weird ass finish.

So as I'm having the tag ripped off, I hear Josh say, "where's Gina?" I was like, "I have no idea, isn't she done?" I then hear Warren say, "do you know where Pookie is?" I said, "no, I haven't seen anyone since the beginning of the race." I was starting to get concerned about my friends. First, Patrick is sitting there without Anais, then Paula and Gina were missing. Kristin rode up and said that everyone had been told the wrong way to go. WHAT?!? You're kidding? "No, seriously we all went the wrong way. You're the only one who rode the correct course." HUH!?

I think they have the finish order as: Kristin, Me, Gina, Anais. Well that's totally fucked up because Kristin rode one abbreviated lap of the Sport Course, I rode the correct course, while Gina and Anais rode kind of a Sport course and a half. Who knows? I don't deserve anything, but last. I didn't have a good race at all. I lost the race on course and mentally then they hand me a 2nd place medal. NO THANKS.

So onto the next race. A mere 6 days from now, I will face the biggest challenge for me ever on a bike. It might actually be the hardest physical task, I've even taken on. I'm not sure I'm ready for it cardio-wise after today. Maybe it was just the heat. Maybe not. I'm hoping that it will be cooler Saturday, so I will go do the best I can. I don't care about time, I don't care about placing; I just want to finish safely. So here's to positive thoughts and a good attitude for next week!!! YAY JEN!!!