Big Bear.

“I really shouldn’t even be here. I should be at the rally in the city.” This is my train of thought as I push my bicycle up part of the Upper North Ridge trail at North Park earlier this evening. I’m sick and I’ve been sick since Friday when it felt as if my brain melted and proceeded to seep out of my face. The trails were a littler more wet than I thought they would be and this section was especially terrible. I wasn’t in town over the weekend to know how the weather played out, so I plead uninformed.

Rewind two days. Jeremy and I left Saturday afternoon for Big Bear Lake West Virginia and the WVMBA #3. We arrived at the campground around 5 and were immediately greeted by two security guards asking us to pull the car over. I walked into their little building and directed my conversation towards the older heavier one who was sitting at a desk watching “That Thing You Do!” (a personal favorite) The younger one was trying to ask all the questions with his big boy voice while wearing fingerless gloves and a stern face. I apparently appeased them enough make it through with minimal hassle. We drove past the campsite on the first go, but were reeled in with a call from Anthony. Made it. We unpacked and began the process of setting up the tent. You would think two grown men (debatable) with college educations could put up a simple tent in less than 20 minutes, but you would be wrong. Half an hour later and we had the nights shelter in front of us. Nice. We skinnied up and grabbed Anthony to get some ride time in before dark. We rode what we thought was part of the course (foreshadowing) for about two hours before darkness and rain would call it for us.

We woke up dry after a night filled with steady rain; packed up camp and got ready for this thing. I felt really neutral to the entire event the whole way up to the start. I almost wanted to just bag the race and go ride for the afternoon. I didn’t feel well as my head cold made it’s way into my chest a little. We got to the venue, registered, and tried to warm up. All of the usual suspects were there. Don rolled up on his new Paragon as he broke his older frame. (again) We lined up for the mass start and the beginning of what would be a one and a half mile road ride before dropping into the singletrack. Took off and I tried to play it cool and not blow it before it even started. Hit the trail (totally not the same place we were last night) and fell in line. I kept pace with those in front and passed when it made sense. I’m not really into passing and fighting for the spot. If I make a pass, it’s because I don’t think you’re going to catch me. I HATE being passed, I cannot stand it. About five miles in, I came up on a Dirty Harry’s rider. It was Dr. Don, color me surprised. He was doing the 21 mile Expert loop, while I was doing the 14 mile Sport loop. He was cramping and generally not feeling well. I rode behind him for a while with him asking me if I wanted to pass. In hindsight, I should have taken it, but I was breathing pretty hard just trying to keep pace. Add to that the amount of descending we were starting to do and I knew I would just have to let him by at some point. I don’t descend as well as I should. That’s something I really need to work on. I ride too much with a rigid fork to be totally comfortable bombing down fast rocky trails. The rider in front of Don fumbled and he did the same. Unlike him though, I wasn’t able to save it properly. Bye Don. I was passed by three or five while I ran my bike up the trail on foot before finally finding an opening where I could get back and try to catch up. A few miles later I caught back up to Don. I would follow him until the two courses split off. I made a few more passes before hitting a very steep and rocky descent which illustrated how much I needed to move my front brake lever closer to my bars. It was very difficult to maintain a decent grip while still grabbing enough brake to keep myself in the safe zone. After that near catastrophe we were pushed into a creek bed that we were to ride down maybe a 100 yards before hoping out the other side. The race was nearly over and I couldn’t find anyone else. I was feeling ok aside from being a little too winded; whether it was sickness or not, I don’t know. I rolled into the finish and placed 3rd of 21. I wasn’t thrilled with that, but I’ll take it. If I remember it correctly, I was about 20 seconds out of 2nd and a minute and a half out from the leader. Had I maybe gone a little harder on the road, or maybe passed a little more haphazardly on the trail, the outcome could have been different. Oh well.

I wish I could be happy with that. I wish I could even be satisfied. I’m not upset, just a little disappointed. I don’t feel that I need to win every race, but I need to get to the point where I don’t wonder whether or not I should be registering Expert. I don’t know what needs to happen for me to feel validated. I’m still a little green to this whole thing and I get a lot of strange looks from some of the guys. I don’t know what it is. I don’t wear a team kit; I don’t have a team and I don’t pretend to. TJ and Trek of Pittsburgh help me out a little, but sometimes I wonder if it’s more TJ feeling bad for a guy that’s a little late to the dance. Maybe I need to market myself more. Maybe I should make a resume of all my races and how I do. Maybe I should keep a better training log of all of the hours spent doing base work. List all of my interval sets and perceived exertion. Maybe I should approach people and sell myself to them. Tell them how if they helped me out, I would kill myself for them. Give me some clothes, a bike, and I’ll physically and mentally destroy myself for you. Maybe maybe maybe. Maybe I’ll just continue to ride as much as possible and see what happens, this is supposed to be fun, remember?

Back to today and I start to run with my bike. Normally I don’t ride anything but a recovery ride the day after a race, but I wasn’t very sore this morning. This only added to my dissatisfaction in my performance; it should be uncomfortable to walk. I get to the top of the hill while the leftover tai food I ate before I left tries to make a break. I keep it down then figure I might as well try to expel it, but no luck. Oh well. Hop on and try to finish the park before dark. I don’t’ ride as hard as I should as often as I should. Maybe I need to put a little more work in to feel just a little satisfied.