I watched way too many cyclocross videos and really built myself up. I was watching the 2002 Worlds where three Belgians hammered on the front and took turns destroying the race. I also have been watching "The Nine Ball Diaries" where Tim Johnson is at his best in the mud. I have been worshipping at the alter of the cross gods dreaming of being a flahute.But then there's reality...
Saturday I hammered on the front in a sub-30 degree race at Smith Farms in Columbus. I looked awesome for about two or three laps. Then I blew up! My lungs hurt like a wimp and the deals I make with my legs fell through. I began to make sloppy mistakes that cost me a podium. Lesson: Jimmy does best when riding conservatively and coming from behind.
Sunday my lucky season ran out. I barely made my race. No warm up, Bridget ran my wheels to the pit. Rode backwards with the plan of laying down the hammer halfway through the race. Then I slid out and somehow the valve stem sheared off my back tire! Ran into the pit and had no idea where my wheels were! Butch, Jeff and Jason from CORA started helping me in the pit. It took forever and I put on a grin, chugged some of Butch's Whiskey Eggnog and set out to some in last place.
I rode like total shit. I felt really uncoordinated and like every turn was a potential crash. I swear I dismounted my bike worse than a rookie, I would have looked more graceful climbing over the handlebars. Some chick heckled me and told me to "race or go home!" Geez. DFL! I had to laugh.
But I got some points and ended my first incomplete Cat 3 season 17th place in the OVCX overall.
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