Thursday, September 13, 2007

Race Report

So, I went to the last race of the season today. After last time, when I got harassed by the organizers for passing another category (I did) and drafting off of them (I did not), I decided not to push myself at all, instead slowing the pace for the pack whenever possible and doing as little work as possible.

Now, for those of you that know me (and who reads this that doesn't?), you probably know that I've never been a good sprinter. I'm not good at long distances, either, but compared to sprinting, I'm a regular marathon-machine-man.

So basically, the idea of a slow race where everyone just sprints at the end to the finish is more-or-less a guaranteed loss for me. On top of that, it's just plain boring. But I was still kind of pissy from the last race, and if no one wanted a fun race... then fine, slow is what they get.

So, I sat in behind people, waiting. Twice, when I was second in the pack, I sat up and soft-pedaled, letting the person in first gain time... one was a Junior (~14/15 year old), who posed no threat, and who got repeatedly shellacked last week when I killed the pace. I figured if he was going to do work, he might as well do it while in the full glory of a breakaway. The second time, I was sitting behind a possible-future-teammate who needed sprint points on a bonus lap. Same theory, same results... soft pedaled, and before anyone realized it, a big gap between him and the pack. Everyone else had to sprint, but it was for nought; they didn't have a chance.

...Now the guy who had just got the points was the same guy who won last week. Unlike the unsung author of this blog, his sprinting capabilities are top notch. So when he eased up and came back to the pack, I stuck on his wheel like I was trying to reenact the massive Krazy-glue incident of 1990. It worked. Although I couldn't pull around him at the end (I tried to pass too early, and got hung out in the wind) (did I mention my lack of sprinting?), I did manage third overall. I was in the prizes. The guy I was following won, so I didn't even feel bad about stealing the race from him.

Don't let anyone tell you I'm not a professional cyclist... but I don't know what I'm going to do with this damn Canadian money.



OK, so technically the socks are from two weeks ago.

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