It felt a little like the last day of summer camp after racing with everyone for the last week. Familiar faces chatted pre-race, promised to exchange contact information and laughed about how our nerves had been gone for a few days. My heart rate at the start line had gone from 125 (first race) to 77 (today).

I did get to do my first “call up”, where they announced the overall series leaders and we got to roll up to the line first (and could pick the best spots). That was kind of cool. Then it was down to business and we started off at a good pace. I really didn’t know what to expect from everyone; there was brief conversation about attempting a break halfway through, so I tried not to do too much work before midrace. Not too much happened until a girl took a flyer and NO ONE chased. Before long she had a 20 second gap and I knew I didn’t want to get second place to her for lack of effort. Rae, my new friend from California, started to rally some troops and we worked to bring it back. I had done more work than I wanted, but didn’t want to go out today not having worked.

After that, there were a few attacks, I bridged to one, but quickly conceded, since the trailing pack was close on. I don’t think anyone wanted much to get away today. Deep breath. OK, back in and recover for the finish. Some spark was missing in me today, I guess. With two to go, I found my wheel again (same Flatlandia rider that had now won 4 of the 5 races). And then Amanda Miller (Atlas) came along and I thought that was OK, too. Sitting third on bell lap the pace was not nearly high enough to stave off a hungry pack on the LAST day. I knew there was an attack waiting to happen and watched for it. It came on the long back stretch and I was quick to latch on. As soon as Flatlandia came over and got on, it stalled the pace leveled and again, all the chasers in the back who were still gunning surged up and going into the third turn we were A LOT more bunched up than I wanted to be. On the quick stretch before the last turn I completely lost my head in the surge that was happening. I also lost about 12 positions. Yikes! I panicked and made up a bit of ground before I hit the turn (in which I had intended to be 2nd or 3rd wheel). That was my race. I lost it in some random 100 meters a quarter mile from the finish. I lost it in a blur of panic. My wheels rode off to first and second place. I managed to mitigate the damage by passing a few people in the 300 meters I had left. I managed to hang on to 8th.

That was not the way I wanted to finish up but in the end, it didn’t hurt my overall standing and I still finished 2nd in the Omnium. Still, I get to think the whole 6 hour drive home about how I should have jumped earlier. How many times have I said that this week? It’s just that I would rather have gotten 8th place by making it a guts race and taking my chances. I would rather have made 7 people pass me rather than me being a big chicken.

What a week.

Day four course brought in some fresh legs for the weekend. Unfortunately, those fresh legs didn’t help much in working to cover a break that started early and stuck for 44 laps. Four or five laps in an attack through the start/finish caused a crash that forced all but three riders to brake and swerve. That split second and the hesitation of the wary pack in the next 100 yards gave the break a handy gap that they never let go.

We quickly started working, recognizing the week’s overall leader was charging in the break; but the lack of consistency and organization saw the gap growing to 20 seconds. Finally, four of us got our heads together and started eating away at the seconds. I think we were down to about 12 seconds when the break caught onto a lapped rider. (This part is unverified, but I’ve had several witnesses say that rider took some pulls on the backstretch for the break). All I know is that our consistent, brisk pace that was gaining saw our gap growing again. I kept driving the front with a few others and got attacked just after a pull. I saw some fresh legs come around and the girl on the front yelled at her for not working, and quickly got on her wheel. Whoever was in front of me took inventory around her and let the gap get out of quick reach. I knew I just lost my train to the break and I felt helpless about it. I was in denial, thinking we’d use them as rabbits and eventually could bridge to the break; but that small bridge attempt took one of the pack’s hard workers and the chase was again too unorganized to answer.

At that point I conceded to be racing for 6th place. I heard the 30+ second gap announcement and told myself to sit in. 21 laps to go. I took a few more pulls, covered an attack or two. Tried to initiate one and quickly got swallowed up. I was tired and spun and was starting to worry about my finishing sprint capabilities. I was thinking about a break attempt with three to go and was trying to pool together with the girls I’d been working so well with. No dice. I committed to sitting in with 10 laps to go. No losing my position to the 20 or so racers who’d been happy to ride along in the back. I stayed in the front 10 and with three laps to go sat third. On bell lap, the riders were spread across the road–no one wanted to pull that last lap. Finally a good effort was made and I was sitting third, then second behind a girl hitting a good enough pace to string it out.

I hit my gas at the last turn and gave it all I had all the way to the line. I kept my eyes on my bar and watched for a wheel that might come around me.
None did and I hung on for my 6th place finish–winning the field sprint. Small, silver lining to my gray cloud of a race. Too much I wish I could go back and do.

Two more days.

The key word here seemed to be “hill”. On the fifth day of racing it seemed like the key word in the pack was “survival”. OK, so that was my plan. There wasn’t a whole lot of aggression in the group that morning as there was only one or two attacks that quickly got soaked back in.

Road conditions weren’t the greatest, either: potholes, manhole covers, gutters, grates and divets kept everyone cautious and heavy on the brakes through turns. An uneventful hour of racing (thank god!).

With 5 to go, Carrie yelled at me that the race was to the last corner (implying that whoever got there first would stick with it for the finish). I stayed safe and quiet and got on my wheel with two to go. Bell lap went as expected and I chickened out in taking the last turn (at the bottom of a long, bump-ridden downhill) and conceded to sit second behind the series leader (who’d won 3 out of the 4 races so far).

Her record would improve and her overall lead on me would grow as I just couldn’t get around her on the last climb. Damn.

One more day. (thank god)

It was raining when we left Milwaukee, but we were optimistic it would clear up along the 50+ mile drive to Sheboygan. It did, for the most part; but we warmed up to the sound of thunder…Three top 20 finishes today for the team. Siobahn, Ekaterina and I all hung in through relentless attacks to the finishing sprint. Rhiannan’s time is coming and we’re gunning for her to hang on tomorrow. We all know what it’s like to see a three foot gap, turn into five, ten and then you’re off the back. It’s a split second decision that gets harder to make the more you’re hurting.

It seemed like every lap had a rider off–never much organization, but required consistent chasing. I once bridged to a Mercy rider and we worked for a bit, and gladly let a third (Comedy Central) rider take a turn pulling. I thought we had a promising gap, but turned out that they’d trailed on the last bridge and had strung it out to catch up. At least they’re taking us seriously.

That was my first “attack” ever in a race, or at least my first whole-hearted attempt to get in a break. It’s a bit scary, there’s a certain amount of vulnerability and gambling involved. How much do I give? How hard will they chase? If they catch me, can I get back in and recover? What if they counter my attack and I have to suffer to hang on to the pack?

I went into today’s race fairly blind. I rolled up to the start to find my HR monitor had lost its signal (needs batteries, I think) and my bike computer magnet wasn’t lined up. I had no idea of my speed or HR effort and after training for so long with it, I found it a bit hard to gauge myself…I don’t think it hurt me, I don’t think I would have done much differently but it would have been nice to know what the speed the pack was holding and chasing with and what I needed to push to stay off the front. I looked down at my speed, only to find out that it was apparently 12:47pm. Not helpful. Damn.

It started raining with two to go…just big, slow drops at first and then a steady rain that made it very difficult to see on the last lap. I was sitting third heading through the start/finish when they rang for the “bell lap”. The overall leader was pulling and was followed by a 16 year old that WAS NOT going to go around to do any work. So, the Flatlandia rider took us around the course in the rain at a good steady pace. The combination of pace and rain stifled any attacks on the back half, which surprised and pleased me. I jumped on the small rise just after turn 3 (of 4 turns). We all stayed in formation around the last turn, even though I made a decent attempt at getting past the leader in the corner. She squeezed me out and I had to feather my brakes. That move left me a big gap to cover in about 200 meters and I just couldn’t ever get it. A couple more inches would have given me second place (Photo finish!). Oh well, a podium’s a podium, right?

I should have jumped just BEFORE the hill. I waited too long, I think. Live and learn. All in all, yay for today.

XPLANE Team Revolution had two top-ten finishers today! Woohoo! Me in 6th hole and our 16 year-old “composite rider,” Siobahn Jones hung on strong to sprint for 9th. That rocks! I also saw my personal highest heart-rate in the sprint. 194! If not for that, I’d be kicking myself for not hitting it harder sooner. I put myself in a bad place that I couldn’t make up.

Today’s race was a flat, windy course in a somewhat deserted industrial-park-like location. No offense to the city of Howard, WI, but this race is not one of my favorites. A two-hour drive from our host-house in Milwaukee is no fun, add that to the spectatorless race on a windy, open course. Ugh. Not my kind of race.

I figured no attacks would stick today, given that to be out of site of the pack the leaders would have to be nearly a half-mile ahead. I went into the day with a conservative attitude; I covered too much yesterday, I was going do my share of work, but, for the most part I wanted to sit in, stay out of the wind. I did that. Which, really, kind of makes for a boring race. Sit. Wait. Pull. Sit. Cover. The last two laps were miserably slow and nerve-racking, no one wanted to work and the whole field just in one big lump going snail’s pace. Dangerous.

On the last lap, I spent the whole front stretch fighting a girl for 3rd wheel. We’re bar to bar, neither budging. I knew I’d get it with my inside position on the first corner. I did. And then consequently lost it on the head-wind back-stretch where things got messy as a restless pack of racers decided to jockey for position while doing as little work as possible.

Somehow, I ended up fighting that same girl on the back-half and was out in the wind uselessly, stubbornly fighting. I should have just went on. I didn’t know if I had enough for the sprint and was too conservative right there. Or was I just too stubborn to give up my call on the wheel? Whatever. I gave it up on the 3rd of the four corners as people seemed to swarm around right before the turn. I lost a handful of positions in the acceleration into and then out out of that sweeping turn.

Impatient racers jumped early, at what must have been nearly 400 yards, to a visible finish line that was too tempting. It apparently must have also been enough of a motivator, because again, most of those early jumpers hung on to their positions. I made up a few places in the early part of the “sprint” but didn’t gain anything on the last 300 meters.

4 races left! Hydration, burritos, sleep. Wake up and kick some ass. That’s my plan.