So, race report time. I went to Lake Charles, Louisiana for the Race du Lac stage race. 45 mile road race, 3 mile time trial, 40 minute crit. That crit course looked tough as **** too.
It's like... 5 or 6 hours to Lake Charles. **** me. I leave around 1pm and still don't get there until 7:30. **** you Houston traffic. I arrive and pick up my race stuff and the first thing out of someone's mouth is "you must be from out of town?" I say yeah but don't think much of it. I'm starving so I go next door to a pizza place that looks like it's been there since 1950, which is also when it was last cleaned. They have an enormous selection of foreign candy, though, and these dirty places are always the best. I order a 10" pizza and eat the whole thing. It's great.
As I go to pay, the guy at the register says "you must be from out of town?" Now I'm curious. I haven't even opened my mouth or anything. So I say, "Is it that obvious?" and he sort of shrugs, like "yeah". I ask what gives it away. He pauses and says "you're much more put together."
Now, this confuses me. I'm wearing jeans, a rumpled t-shirt, and I haven't shaved in 3-4 days. I just spent 6 hours in a car. Looking around I guess he either means I'm the only normal-BMI dude in a 20 mile radius, and or I'm probably a queer. I ask where he thinks I'm from and he guesses Houston. We chat a while about Houston and Austin and then I leave.
My hotel is a hilarious joke. I mean, it's fine, but the TV uses the top 1/3 of the screen to play a commercial about itself (which I can turn off, but it keeps coming back on when you turn the TV on again) and only has standard def programming, which I didn't think was even possible any more? I have the room to myself because the guy I was travelling/racing with crashed on thursday and tore his face up. I get **** together for the race and go to bed.
Morning of and it is COLD. Like 40 degrees and colder in the shade. I ride about 1/4 of the race loop to warm up and see what the conditions are like. Road looks great, no obstacles, turns look fine, etc. Race starts and the pace is normal. I decide that for once I'm going to concetrate the whole race and try not to do anything dumb.
This is another race where we only get one lane, which on old county roads is often pretty narrow. I remember from my last race that it can be hard to gain positions so when I see a gap on the side open up, I go from the back to about 5th from the front in one go. Good. Now I just need to keep on task and stay up here.
I mostly manage to do so, staying about in the 2nd quarter of the field for the most part. I'm not worrying about actual position too much. People are going off the front and not getting chased, because, uh, it's a long way to go still. They get folded back into the pack soon enough.
The race is 3 laps around a 15 mile loop. Once we start the 3rd loop I think it's time for **** to start happening. With about 12 miles to go we head into a section with a reasonable tail wind - the wind isn't high but but you can feel it. I'm in a good position and I'm ready to follow any group that wants to go. I'm feeling great.
But no one goes. A gap opens up and I'm like, **** it, so I take off myself. I drag 3 guys with me. I look back only once, to make sure that we actually dropped the pack (there is nothing worse than being in a "breakaway" and finding out you've actually been pulling the peloton for miles). The 4 of us yell at each other for a minute to basically negotiate that we'll work together and then off we go.
We actually hold it for a good while, I think probably about 3 miles. We get joined for 3 or 4 more people and then it falls to hell. We stop having a good rotation, we slow down, we get brought back into the group. I don't know how far we got from them, probably no more than a few hundred yards.
Still, though, it was amazing. It's the first time that I feel like I've taken hold of my own outcome, instead of waiting for someone to tow me to the finish, or hoping that I can just finish with the pack, I did what you're supposed to do, and it was fine. It was probably the greatest moment of my cycling career.
For the first time, I thought, "it's possible I could win this race." Not, mind you, that I thought I was going to. But I could imagine it. Before, that was something that was totally incomprehensible. When you're holding on to the back and finishing in 50th or whatever place, you don't think that. Now I think I see a glimmer of how it could be done. I think if I'd had 3-4 team mates we could have won it.
In the end after we're brought in, I stay in the front quarter and follow a few more attempted breaks but nothing sticks at all. There's a crash about 5 miles to the finish, and lots of sketchy situations. I rub someone's wheel from the back but keep upright. Someone's ass bangs into my handlebars and causes me to veer but we both keep it up.
Here's where I made a really crucial mistake. Remember, I'd done the loop 2 times already. The last 2-3 miles to the finish are on a very small road with no shoulder. Very narrow. So whatever position you have going into that section, that's what you're stuck with, there is no way anyone is going to let you by. Since we're now headed to the finish I have no option to move up. I estimate I'm in 15th-20th as is.
Heading to the finish the sprint starts at about 200 yards to go. I pick up speed to stay with the guys around me but I'm not trying to sprint, there is no point, impossible for me to catch anyone in front of me.
And here, the guy in front of me goes down, I don't know why, and I run into him and go down myself, and tumble a bit. I guess probably 3 or 4 guys crashed in total right there at the finish.
And... that was is. I'm OK but my face is bleeding, my jersey is torn to shreds. I get cleaned up and go back to the hotel and my back is aching. I take a hot bath, do some back exercises and then go to get ready for the time trial. Still trying to decide whether I'll do it or not. My plan is to get in position and start it. As long as you start, you can proceed to the next stage (in this race, it varies). If you have a "mechanical" and can't finish then you just get the worst time.
But when I go to get dressed I can't even lean over to put my shorts on. There's literally just no way. I pack my **** and drive the 6 hours home.
And so, that's it. My best race, by far, and a really great sensation for me, kind of a pity it has an asterisk next to it. I'm going to let my back heal and see what happens next, it's feeling better already today so maybe just a week off the bike should do it.