F'd up

I fucked up. A half day off from work, 5 hours of travel time, many days of riding/training – and I pissed it all away by agreeing to ride the same pace as a buddy over a 60 mile bike race. He exacerbated my frustration by crashing the race (skipping the entry fee), and experiencing numerous mechanical, psychological, and physical issues over the course of 6 hours, 15 minutes.

It wasn’t as though it was a bad day on the bike. The course was fun, the temp was perfect, the aid stations were well stocked, and the volunteers were overly nice bluehairs. As mon frère battled his issues, I had plenty of time to relax and see that riding in the B/C group meant I was surrounded with a bunch of guys who have plenty of money, but are short on time to ride. $5,000+ bikes were the norm. Carbon full suspension was the choice for most of these guys. I didn’t run into any posers – rather – these guys were all genuinely nice, and were giving it their all through some tough terrain. Most of them were a bit out of their element once we hit mile 50, but they were all leaving everything they had on the course. Pretty cool, I thought. Hell – these are the guys who keep the bike industry going. They pay the bills for companies like Specialized/Trek/Cannondale/Mavic/Shimano to ensure innovation year over year.

Once JK worked through his issues including severe neck pain that required a 20 minute shut down going into the last major aid station, we knocked out the last 10 miles with a moderate pace and no unnecessary stops except for one Latin woman he had to “help” because her chain came off. Latin, Navajo, Cuban, they are all like Goddesses to JK, and I wasn’t surprised to be waiting trailside for another five minutes after I passed a female rider. I was disappointed in him for not paying to ride (and not telling me about it until we met at the start line) in a well organized event – although he wasn’t taking from the aid stations along the way – but it just seemed lame.

So, I rolled into the finish, in my estimation – at least a full hour plus slower than I could have. Instead of me standing on the podium as part of the top 5 singlespeeders, it was my other teammate Adam who made it into 4th place. He had a great ride, and I would have loved to have ridden wheel to wheel with him. I have had very few podium-worthy rides, and it would have been nice to get one on Saturday. I congratulated him, and immediately just let it go. “IT” being the jealousy and aggravation associated with knowing that I threw a rare opportunity away. I fucked up.

The lesson from all this - for me anyway. Don’t waste an opportunity. A pie truck could hit me tomorrow and after a funeral with 11 people max, I’d be a distant memory. So, show up, punch it, and leave your best effort….dammit.