2010 Hillsboro-Roubaix
Race Recap
Race Category: Masters 40
Place: 41
Field Size: 75
The reverse attack never works
View from the Rear
Saturday was the first time that I have raced this event. First of all, the promoters of this race did a fantastic job of organization and execution. Everything ran like clockwork and what a contrast this was from other races. That is not a slam on other race promoters – because I can only imagine the amount of work needed to pull everything together – but rather a compliment to ICCC for a job well done. Props should also go out to the town and residence of Hillsboro. I feel bad for the “Hicksboro” moniker that I assigned prior to the race.
In case you cannot gather from the title “View from the Rear”, this is not going to be an in depth report on race details from the front of the field. For that, you may want to tune into Druber’s blog. This race drained me as do many early season races. On my 4 hour drive home, I came up with a whole laundry list of excuses to explain my major suckage, but I have abandoned that list and landed on one explanation – unprepared – both physically and mentally. The course was challenging, but not much of a deviation in terrain from what I ride on a weekly basis – but this had to be the dumbest race that I have done in a long time (well at least since the last one). Constantly, I found myself racing in the gutter – which on a windy course is the last place that you want to be. Maybe it was the 10,000 turns that kept me confused on where to be in the group. I should say that the level of race ethic and riding ability was very high in this category – although the center line rule was left badly bruised.
Heading up the main hill leading into town on the first lap, I found myself way over geared. In my desperation to correct that problem created a gap between myself and the field. That 10 meter gap turned into 15, which turned into 20 and so on. By the time we reached the start finish line, the field was entering turn 1. You can imagine the thoughts going through my mind at this point … but one thing was forefront … winners never quit and quitters never win. I struggled to tag back on to the field. It was an exercise of two steps forward and four steps back. Soon I realized that the field was just getting farther and farther away. Ironically, my best showings are at time trials and ironically that is what the second lap turned out to be. Anyway it was a long, agonizing and lonely 20+ miles. Although I think I was well hydrated, cramping set in. It is funny the things that roll through your mind on these types of races (you know … the shitty kind). Hindsight was in full force … did I use the right tire pressure, my hydration, my food intake up to 36 hours back, did I lock my car, etc. The senses are very keen. Rolling through one of the final turns, the turn monitor was eating a sandwich. I could smell it as I went by – it was a turkey sandwich with mayo, tomato, cheese and white bread (might have been Wonder Bread).
The icing on the cake was the final climb when not one but both legs decided, in unison, that enough was enough. Severe cramps in both would not allow me even one more rotation – even though I needed about 20 more until the top. This normally would not have been a huge deal, but on a hill it is important to keep pedaling. I veered off the course, just a three women were walking down. They must have seen the pain in my face because all I could here was “oh boy … here he goes” as they rushed to get out of the way. It’s not that I was trying to run them over or even close. I had no control and was heading towards softer ground (I couldn’t even get unclipped). Finally, in a last ditched (no pun intended) effort, I unclipped and stood motionless (not by choice) for what seemed to be minutes; while a lady across the street yelled … “do you need help? … do you need help?” It was a nice gesture, but the reason I did not reply the first time was because I thought that “shut up bitch, does it look like I need help” would not be appropriate or gracious. I composed myself, swept up what was left of my dignity and continued on. Finally reaching the cobbles, I was passed by another stray 40+. I just let him go, but for some reason I felt the urge to sprint it out for 40th place. Notice above that I finished 41st. Oh the misery.
There are some great photos at SmugMug. Go there and check them out and make some purchases. I am probably violating some copy write laws by using their photos here, but hopefully by giving them a quick plug, they will forget that I used a couple of their photos in this report.
Robo's expression says it all!
The hunter or the hunted?
As for everything else … the Felt performed well – even though we are not on speaking terms yet, my Sram components performed to standard that leaves nothing else to blame but the engine and I am at peace with that too. After a few days of recovery, I will be on a quest to make sure that history does not repeat itself. Being the eternal optimist, I am happy to report that my training has not peaked too early in the year. Lots of room for improvement and that is my report from the rear (again … no pun intended). Congratulations to all that participated and especially to those that did not suck.
Oh … special thanks to Justin and Gina for providing a place to sleep during my trip. And my apologies to the kind lady offering help.
