Call it an ominous start: the weather forecast was calling for high winds and lots of rain. In fact the race organizers apparently gave some consideration to pushing back the start. Given the elements, my mood was somber and I half-heartedly warmed up about 45 minutes before the schedule start for my race. Truthfully I spun for about 5-10 minutes before going back into a 'tent' the promoter had put up. I seriously thought about not even doing the race. Call me a fair weather queen
Somehow I convinced myself to go through with the race. The minutes passed and our group made its way to the line. While training and riding solo, it was easy to imagine doing well. Now surrounded by a group of 35 other women (including 2 big teams with 6-8 riders each), all of them looking strong, riding high-end bikes, left me and my frumpy used bike feeling a bit intimidated. The daydreams of easy wins and high placings were replaced with: I hope I finish & don't get dropped!
The official began talking to us, going over the basics. I barely heard what was said, lost in my own thoughts. I kept saying – it is just a bike ride, just a bike ride. I've done a bike ride before, so this is no big deal. Right? Um....And then we were off. I'd never ridden in such a big group (35+). The bunch took up the entire lane and was about 3-4 riders wide, maybe 10-12 rows deep. A light rain fell and the wind was blowing strongly – though it was a cross wind.
Just as I was settling in after the first mile or two, there were some attacks. They were chased down quickly & never got more than 10 meters on the pack. I was surprised at such tactics but figured everyone goes in with a different plan. We rolled down the road for a good 45 more minutes. The pace alternated from easy, moderate riding to quick responses to attacks on the short hills of the course. Those latter moves were always initiated by individual riders (either those w/o a team or those that were the sole members of their team in the race) but the two big teams made sure to chase down the attacks rapidly.
At this point it did start to feel like a leisurely group ride. We'd passed the roundabout and things were still very relaxed. I kept towards the middle of the pack, near the yellow paint, with mixed success. Yes I kept my position but the crosswinds made it hard to be totally sheltered and I began to look for another spot in the peloton with more cover. I couldn't get over towards the right directly with a few riders next to me, but saw some space to their right. So I drifted back a bit with the idea to find a hole and then accelerate up into the opening I'd picked out earlier.
As I drifted to the back ¼ of the pack, then it happened. Suddenly there was carnage right in front of me with a rider going down, probably from overlapping wheels or hooking the bars. Being on the right side now, I swerved and only just avoided her, but ended up in a grassy dip on the side of the road. I almost fell but saved myself by un-clipping at the last instant. I looked up and saw the woman was OK but the pack was now moving away rapidly as an attack was launched. It flashed right before me, the thought that my race was over at that very moment.
I clipped back in and began chasing....very hard. It felt like a definite match and the wko file confirms it given the effort was over 120% of FT for 75-80 seconds. The pack hadn't shattered yet but was beginning to get strung out. I barely caught the tail end of the bunch on what was a false flat in the midst of a short but steepish section of the course. Gasping for air for a few seconds I glanced up and could see that another big attack was happening. I recognized three distinct jersey's, all 3 from the 2 biggest teams, beginning to get a big gap and working together to make their escape stick. Some of the riders in the bunch were clearly too tired to chase and began falling back. Meanwhile some others tried to chase and I decided to latch on behind one of them that had looked quite strong earlier. The many teammates of the escapees then begin jumping on the wheels of those of us who were trying to chase.
The gap was too big and the 3 attackers seemed to have successfully ditched us. I had more in the tank but the other chasers, including the one in front of me who I had thought was quite strong, apparently gave up. I weighed my options quickly: common sense suggested that a chasing 3 riders on a day with bad crosswinds and some rain, while going solo was crazy, at best. Then again, the thought of a slow funeral like procession to the finish with a good 10-12 teammates of the escapees seemed even less appealing.
I made my decision right then and there. As soon as the pace slowed when the other chasers put up the white flag and the teams caught up, during that momentarily lull, I launched a counterattack. I looked back and saw an angry looking bunch of identical jersey's furiously chasing. I wasn't at my limit, though close, and so I put my head down and kept going. Glancing back, heaving for breath, after about 30 seconds I'd opened up a good sized gap.
Clicking into the big ring, I got myself into the mindset of a hard training ride and would think of it as a 15 mile solo TT. The wind was nasty though and my shades were dotted with raindrops, so I focused on trying to keep ahead of the pack and forgot about the leaders, since I couldn't see them anyway. The miles started to fall away and I began passing stragglers from the other race groups. I'd glance back every few minutes, terrified that the pack would suddenly be behind me, but they nowhere in sight. I was in a sort of no-man's land. I kept pushing myself to go harder and harder and stay in a good rhythm. It was more mentally challenging than anything else when you can't see who you are chasing as well as who is chasing you....all you see is road and the faces of cracked riders from other cat's. It is a bit grim actually...
Then about 3 miles from the finish I unexpectedly caught sight of 2 familiar looking jersey's. Apparently two of the three leaders had fallen back or been dropped by their initial breakaway companion. Suddenly there was someone/something tangible to chase. Turning over the gear, I started to close in and realized they were going to be caught. They looked back and saw me when I was about 100 meters back. It didn't seem like their pace increased so I got up to them fairly quickly. One of them was cracking though and she started to go backwards. That left only two of us with about a mile to go.
I knew we'd play a bit of cat-and-mouse from here on out. The other rider launched an attack not longer after I caught up. Probably she figured I'd used up a lot of energy in the chase and that I'd have little left. There was a lot of truth in that but I was able to stay on her wheel and she failed to get away. The pace slowed again. Then I saw the finish line maybe 300-400 meters away and thought, ok we are going to sprint for it. She was up front and I just sat on her wheel. With about 200 meters to go, she launched but I was well prepared and was in her draft readily. At about the 75-100 meter mark I let fly as hard as I could and passed her to take the sprint by about 7-8 bike lengths.
The power file turns out to not be particularly impressive - no PB's or huge numbers, I've done better on most training days. Although I did get a nice 60 minutes @ L4 during my flyer. IF for 2-1/2 hours was in the high L3/low L4 which sounds about right. I was hella pleased with the effort. A few hours earlier I had debated not even racing, then would have been happy just to finish, and now there I was with a nice second-place finish.