So things have been crazy in that last few weeks and it’s
been hard to find the time to sit down and write. But here I am sitting on a
bus going back to Milwaukee with a ton of things to get down and some pretty
sweet things to mention.
But to pick up where I left off, Subaru Cup was big. The
crowd was huge and the course was awesome. And everything came together as I
was able to have a best finish of 13th place good for some UCI
points which rank me internationally. My parents were there and so were just
about all of my friends. To do something like that in front of the people you
care about is pretty special.
But Subaru was to be only a stepping stone to the big goal
for the season, Cross Country Nationals in Pennsylvania. It was a very quick turnaround
from Subaru to Nationals. I returned home Monday for one day of work and packed
and cleaned everything, as best I could, then headed east Tuesday morning. The
drive was boring and took forever, but I’ve come to expect this. We arrived
Wednesday in time for some laps on course. It’s hardly news at this point, but
the course was very rough. But it was more than rough, it was very physical.
The type of course where there is almost no flow and a rhythm is tough to get
into and even hard erto keep. You are constantly pushing the bike around left
and right, up and over rocks and obstacles. On top of that it was nearly 100
degrees out.
I spent the week getting lots of practice in on course and
finding those little lines to save precious energy and time during the race. On
top of that I was getting some workouts in to prepare the legs and body for the
effort to come. But the overwhelming feeling was that I was not prepared. I
felt a little bit tired and run down. I wasn’t sure what to make of it because
this was my first XC nationals. Not my first Pro XC nats, but my first, period.
I pushed forward assuming I was just nervous. And then came the bomb drop.
During practice my chain began to frequently come off. I
looked down and both my chainrings and front derailleur were blown out. The
Shimano guys were spot on with a new derailleur, but I didn’t expect them to
have a set of chainrings. And they didn’t. It was a rush around trying to get
something figured out. Eventually I realized there was a QBP warehouse in
Pennsylvania and gave them a call. They didn’t have the chainrings but did have
a crank. I had to bite the bullet and buy a whole new crank. It was a whole
bunch of stress that I just didn’t need. But it’s tough to say what it did to
me. I’d like to think I’m better than that to let something like that affect me,
but I just don’t know.
With the crank all figured out I was definitely feeling a
little bit more confident. I’ve worn out chainrings before and there is nothing
worse than being afraid to push on the pedals as hard as you can. So I was
feeling better with them all fixed up. Preparation for the race was going well
and before I knew it, Saturday had descended upon me. We raced in the afternoon
so I was able to chill out in the morning and help friends with bottle handups.
A mid-day snack cooked in my new travel companion, a rice cooker, and it was
race time. Bottles were set, I had Tim and Lynn Senkerik in the feed and tech
zones. I was as ready as I was going to be.
And the legs didn’t feel bad, but something was off. It was
motivation I think mostly. But in this business, there are a lot of things
pushing you back, and when it’s your own motivation you just have to push through
when the chips are down, so I did.
I started 3rd row and when they started playing
adagio for strings, one of my favorite songs, I was ready to shred. When the whistle
blew I lit it up and did my best to move up. After losing a few spots off the
line I put a little dig in to make some spots before the single track. I wasn’t
feeling anything, just putting myself where I wanted to be. The first lap was
overall pretty good as I stuck in around top 15 and felt like I was riding
right on my limit as it should be. Things seemed to be going great. Tim was
there at the bottom with some water and told me later that he was really pumped
to see me come through just behind the top guys.
But as I made the second attack up the rough climb I began
to hurt a little more than I wanted. Usually the first lap is tough. You go in
a little above your head and push it to make those early passes and stay in
position. The second lap is all about finding a comfort level, a place where
you can hold, a baseline pace from which you will attack from and recover at. I
quickly realized that my heart rate was far beyond the point of no return. I
slowed way up trying to get back and by the end of the second lap things were
coming into focus a little bit after losing some spots. Lap 3, I began to get caught
by riders and didn’t want this to happen. But I was still suffering and trying
to hold pace was just making me lose it more. By the time lap 4 came around I
was hurting bad. My arms were numb and tired, my head was fuzzy and the legs
were empty. I completed the lap only to see the official waving me off course.
I came in at 21st place. This is not a bad
result, but I was looking for more. I knew I could be in the top 15 and I
really wanted a top 10. It’s tough to say it was a bad race, because I still
finished well, but I know I could have done better.
But I quickly put it behind me as took some time off the
bike. Not too much, only 4 days, but sometimes even the smallest amounts of
time can make a difference. During this time I received some big news from USA
Cycling. They had offered m e a spot on the National Team for the upcoming
World Cup in Mont Sainte Anne, Canada. When I heard the news, it was the first
time this year that I can honestly say my heart dropped. I was almost jumping
for joy. My big season goal was to race this race, and doing so is a huge
opportunity that I’m looking forward to. I went to Montana and came back a
better rider. I can’t even imagine what I’ll be like when I return from Canada.
The last handful of days has been devoted to preparing for the trip. I’ve been working long days at work trying to keep the projects on and ahead of schedule so that I can take the time off. And on top of that planning all of the logistics for the trip is a handful. It’s stressing me out a lot, but I keep telling myself, “This is your dream, and what is your dream worth to you.”
It’s a good thing to keep in mind. Not all of us are lucky
enough to be facing their shot at a dream. But whether you’re staring your
dream in the face, struggling to keep it alive, watching it become a
possibility, or just starting to dream it up, when it gets tough just remember
what it is worth to you. I don’t know if I’ll be riding professional, next year
or ever. But I refuse to look back and say what if I had given it my all.
Because this dream is worth that much to me.
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