Fort Richie and the beginning of my 2010 Cycling Season

So after figuring out that I was not admitted to OCS in Quantico, VA this summer, it didnt take long for me to get online and register for my Cycling license to permit me to race USCF races this summer. This weekend marked the beginning of my 2010 USCF racing season, fittingly, with the same race I began my Category 4 career with one year ago at Fort Richie in Cascade, Maryland.

My legs had been feeling kind of dead during the week, likely a side effect of Cory and I's 120 miler last weekend. Luckily, as the week progressed and i eased up on the training as the weekend drew nearer the leaden feeling in my legs mostly left and they began to feel more normal. The Fort Richie Race is about an hour and a half away, down 270 and out 15 north past Frederick and passing the house of the Darster in Damascus. I must admit, on the drive up I strongly considered getting off at exit 16 on 270N to visit the Darsters mom for some fresh baked goods instead of racing. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it I was able to bypass the exit and get to the race. Before leaving my house I frantically tore apart the fridge and the pantry for some sort of food to eat for lunch...unfortunately I dont think my family eats food at the house anymore, a change since I lived at the house. All i could find was a hotpocket and nature valley granola bars that expired in april 2008. As I heated up the hot pocket i debated eating the granola bar, and decided against my moms advice not to feast it. Now if youve ever watched tv im sure youve seen the commercial for hotpockets, they never advertise it as being the perfect pre-race meal...cause they're NOT.

I made it to the race at around 140, an hour before my race. Everything went smoothly, and after the 3 race was over we rode a few laps on the course. I got stuck in the back of the field at the start due to an unfortunate timed warm-up lap circumstance. The race went out and although I was in the back third, my legs felt good and I steadily began making my way up to the front of the pack. I must note this is much harder in a race of 75 then it was in collegiate where after a few good surges you found yourself on the front. After about 10 minutes I had jumped up to midpack, and it became much easier to follow the surges of the leaders, my legs thanked me. I settled in and after a few more laps realized I had become to complacent with my position and had began drifting back as I lost a spot here and there. I decided to put in a few moves to regain better position. I found myself riding next to an old NCVC team mate, Nate Hakken, who currently rides for Gam jams, that I had talked with thursday on the wakefield training ride. Knowing he was a solid rider I sat on his wheel and he managed to work us up to the front of the pack.

Sitting in the top 10 I heard the announcer say something along the lines of "somebodys GOT TO attack soon." Funnily enough, the same thought was going through my mind and 34 minutes into the race i put my head down and put in some big watts, after a few seconds of this hammering I looked back and to my surprise no one had followed me. I stood up and launched myself up the hill and swung around the corner. On the next straight I heard the all to familiar sound of carbon wheels coming up alongside me. I looked back and saw an AABA rider, the rest of the pack trailing us by a good bit. "Ready?" He asked me, and he took off. I grabbed his wheel and we worked our way around the course, changing pulls after the turns. The wind was brutal and the 11 remaining laps felt like an eternity. With 2 laps remaining we had worked ourselves into a 16 second gap. Unfortunately the last lap a Coppi rider began punishing the pedals and making up ground on us. He caught us with about half a lap left and even worse was that the rest of the field had followed his lead. I desperately tried to hang onto the Coppi riders wheel, but my legs simply were out of juice. I tried again but I simply could not muster any more energy. I turned into the last turn and looked to my sides as riders flew past me. I crossed the finish line, went around to the back of the course and said goodbye to my hotpocket.

Im not going to lie, this was one of the most painful races of my life. There were times when I was pretty confident we would keep our break. Unfortunately, the wind was fierce and the pack was strong. Theres only one thing I can do about this, get even stronger.