Tour of KC 2009

Friday June 26th:
This would be my first race back after a two week rest period. I had one thing going through my mind prior to the race, "guns up let's do this." During and after a rest period the mind and body are not quite in sync. The mind is earger, the mind is willing, but the body doesn't begin to approach the mind's level of intensity. All good training books describe levels of fitness as a line graph that increases, peaks, declines, troughs, rises again, and proceeds to a higher peak. The hardest thing of coming off of a peak fitness period is the memory of the peak itself. Your mind thinks that the body still has the razor edge it used to, it most definitely does not.

For the Longview Criterium Britton and I were careful to line up at the front of our field. From the gun the pace jacked up and the field turned into a paceline. Feeling mid-pack to be inadequate, I gunned my engines and raced to the front before turn one. Taking delight in my rested legs I led the group for a lap and a half at blazing speed. Near the halfway point of lap two the paceline behind me came around my left side and ramped up the pace. I struggled to match pace with the lead group and quickly drifted to the back. After a couple of laps of trying to hang on, and failing to recover from my previous effort, I fell off. Dropping back to a quarter of a lap behind the lead group, I began to recover and initiated a TT effort, I watched the field inch away from there. Deciding that justice for my stupidity would have to be self-administered, I stayed in the race for the remainder going as hard as I could. At the end I was busted up, ego bruised more than body.

Saturday June 27th:
It was business as usual. David and I got up around 10am and began planning our day pre-race. We decided on seeing the new Transformers movie and getting lunch asap. Massages sounded good too, so we were keeping that option on the back burner. As we were getting ready around 11am my stomach began to distend and I experienced sharp intestinal pains. It was kind of a joke at first, me explaining that I got gas pains from time to time, but that it would go away soon. 4 hours later it hadn't. Having downed the maximum limit of gas-x pills for a day, hours earlier, and failing to find any reprieve, we began to worry. Thoughts of appendicitis and ruptured spleens abounded. Thinking over the situation mom decided it best to drive me to the hospital. Two hours after that and having cpr done on my stomach I began to feel better.

Day recap:
1. didn't make it to lunch or a movie
2. experienced vomit inducing pain for 6 hours
3. nearly passed out at the hospital
4. was diagnosed with probable intestinal chloronic (necessitating surgery in serious circumstances)
5. watched Marley and Me with my mom and her husband Jim while recovering
6. missed the day's criterium

Summation: wtf, son-of-a-bitch

Sunday June 28th:
Yesterday was supposed to be redemption day, but considering the circumstances, today would have to do. Looking at my race record I realized that my last commendable criterium result was nigh on months ago, today I aimed to change that. Pedalling around pre-race with Britton, the legs felt decent. Taking Friday as a lesson I knew that my endurance was not what it once had been, hopefully my top end wasn't so diminished. Today's strategy would be to race with my head, since my legs weren't so willing. Waiting at the start line mom and Jim were there to cheer me on. Today would be the same as Friday, with my biggest supporter in attendance I wanted to pull out a great result. On top of that a dear friend of mine, Kristi Dillman and her boyfriend TK were coming to watch as well. Unexpectantly TK had brought his camcorder and had it trained on me each lap. The pressure was on, four people were watching that I wanted to impress and one had a machine capable of capturing undeniable evidence of my impending success or failure. Guns up let's do this.

Like most crits the pace was heavy. There were definitely some dudes racing that wanted to keep things moving. Knowing that my form wasn't good enough to contend with too many moves at the front I kept my position near middle of the pack. A few breaks went early in the race, but were always brought back. Near mid-race the group split and a lead six or so got off the front. Finding myself near the front of the chase and knowing that the break looked pretty strong, I moved to lead chase position and worked to reel them back in. In about half a lap I pulled the group back to the break and resumed my mid-pack sit in. At about this time Britton came up beside me and said, "be patient, everyone's getting tired." I believed him, and was thankful for the words of encouragement. As the laps wound down, they seemed longer than 1/2 a mile, I kept a watchful eye on the front, sizing up the competition and readying myself to spring if need be. Coming into the last lap, predictably, people started going nuts,both behind the barriers and in the peloton. For a reason unknown to me still, a racer to my right began merging onto my line. Riding in the gutter I had nowhere to go, but down on the concrete if he was going to continue. Putting my elbow out I fended him off as he tried to force me off the road. After a few moments of contact he twisted his handlebar and went down. Wtf. If you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen I guess. From the crash I gunned it into turn one taking lead position, up the hill I rounded turn two with a rider in tow. He shouted, "let's go!" I looked back and saw a chasing paceline. I felt pretty cooked as he launched an attack around my right. He gapped me a bit before turn 3 and I used all my speed through the last two turns to make up ground. Coming up the finishing hill I laid down a good sprint, nearly closing the gap, but it wasn't enough for first. I'd take 2nd on TK's camera.