A Pivotal Weekend (Part 2)

(continued) A mind shift and here is where and how it happens. My wife says to me, "Just keep your head on straight." A simple yet poignant suggestion that sticks with me as I sit on the start line for the CAT 3/4 race. "Yeah. She's right," I say to myself. I breathe deeply, "Just keep my wits and I'll be fine." They would be my last deep breaths for over an hour. The whistle is on and after only a lap, I find myself three-fourths of the way back in another fifty-four man field. Just wanting to hang with these guys is all I wanted. Mission accomplished; proof of nothing.

About halfway through the race and I can see some of teammates working the front. Soon one is drifting back and I know what he's going to say. "Get your ass to the front!" he shouts at another. I'm next to hear, "Go to the front," and I have to do it. With no chance of winning, my sole responsibility lies with trying to help those that can. In an almost effortless maneuver, I move to the front where I stay for half a lap. Past the start/finish line and I'm running out of gas. No longer able to keep the pace, a gap develops. "Stay with them," a voice shouts. I cannot, my engine is blown. You see this happen many times. Someone pushes the limit too far or one too many times and pop! Thank you very much. They're off the back and their day is done. This is where I was. Oh well, it was a good try. Maybe next time.

But wait. I had drifted back to my original position, the pack had slowed and I had recovered. Five laps to go and I started thinking. "You need steel-like nerves to do what I'm doing right now." "You need less than half a brain!" On the final lap, I managed to catch my pedal going into a turn. My bike jumped laterally three feet, my rear wheel dug in hard, and I nearly soiled myself. Feeling that I had pressed my luck enough and needing new pants, I was resigned to finish a respectably disappointing 24th. None of which mattered to my family; they made me feel like a champ. Some simple words around the course of a race and I had a new outlook. "You know what?" I thought. "F@*# it!" I'm not racing this damned expensive bike to just survive. Tomorrow would be different.