Author

Brian Morrissey on Apr 27, 2008

Race name: Whitnall Park Criterium - Masters 4/5 and Elite 4/5 Race date: Sunday, Apr 27, 2008

(Forgive me...I promised someone I'd do my next race report in Sonnet Form):

At dawn the red cart called me to the door,

And red was in my eyes and through my heart,

The wind and clouds blew quick, yet promised more.

As did my legs and mind, to do their part.

For then my fear had been replaced by fire,

To drive and hear their moaning lamentations.

Ne'er high'r flames I saw through my desire,

Then I gave it all to rid my demons.

We waited for, and watched their soldiers die,

And in a flash from out the woods we sprang,

And dipped our swords in water and the sky...

Where is beauty in all our songs not sang?

Pity them, for they can't know, life in June

Is dying on a springtime afternoon.

Fun day. Started miserable and cold. But, standing at the line, at the start of my first repeat race - Whitnall Park 2007 was my XXX debut (got dropped with 2 to go) - I wasn't nervous, but raring to go.

I was in both of these to win 'em...still embarrassingly nervous about attacking...I almost always lose my nerve before committing. But as a teammate said yesterday, "you can't score if you don't shoot." So, after racing tactically for most of the first race, with still a bit of the tentativeness that I'd been trying to get rid of this early season, I attacked late on a bell lap at the top of the hill...counting off in my head 15 kicks...then looked behind, saw a gap with 2 others chasing, and suddenly felt fatigue sit on my chest like a lead weight - my legs wouldn't go any faster. It was a feeling I'd get to know well on Saturday.

I tempered it just enough to hang on for the third place point of the prime, but what a stupid move - since the prizes were awarded omnium for all three of the bell laps - it was complete waste of energy. And even worse, as I crested the hill getting passed by two other riders I saw it was 3 to go. That was when I needed to be jamming and instead I was recovering at the back of the pack. I never got in reach of the front again. Had I been with Jeff and Newt on the right side of the hill on the last lap, we might have just had a train ready to go. As I it was, boxed in on the left, I saw a flash of red helmet and there went Jeff, taking the open road that fate had given him and Newt right behind...both died before the line. But, to see Jeff's finish and know where he was at the end of that race tells you just how hard he worked even in a situation that was realized way too early. Me? Picked off just a couple in the "sprint" for 18th place.

2 hours break before the Elite 4/5s, sun came out...we watched Luke nearly pull off a two man breakaway with Kevin and Jonathan blocking in the pack before getting reeled in on the very last time up the hill.

The hill didn't look that big in the shadows of SLO and Asheville, but 12 or so laps up it in the first race...? There was gonna be more coming out of the bank this time around.

I again raced very tactically, and this time smartly, staying far enough ahead to avoid some gnarly crashes behind behind me, yet finding good spots as Calvin strung it out early. It was a fast race, thanks to him. I'd been targeting this race, as most of my close teammates knew...I'd talked big about attacking, but knew I didn't have the legs. But with three to go I finally had the presence of mind to find my way to the front and stay there, dammit. I was also determined to take that turn on the inside, no matter how sharp it was. Havoc was being played every lap as the pack took the turn 3 deep, and half the racers inside drifted left into the lines outside. If you took the turn inside sharp and hard, there was a whole lane of open pavement all the way until the course choked at the top of the first stairstep. This proved instrumental in staying forward at the end of this race.

Calvin absolutely buried himself getting me around that lap. Coming around with two to go as he went supernova, a hard-charging train led by Pegasus came up left. I had two choices: what I usually did, wait for it to pass, grab on the end like a nice guy, and hopelessly try to move up 15 wheels, or bomb to the front. ..and into the wind I went as Newt - crashed out but OK - screamed at me from the sidelines to get out of the wind..yes, third wheel was ideal, but now it was absolute value: at the front or at the back.....I took that hard turn 2 more times on my own terms, no more than 5 wheels back. It was tight - a feeling in a race I've never experienced before. Not sure how close to the line I really was.

500 meters to go I found out. It felt like every rider who came past as the hill crested whacked me with a baseball bat. Jacques came by and with surrealism I noted how calm he looked as my wheezing grunts resonated in my head. I tried to get his wheel. I had nothing. Mid pack finish, I dunno.

But I have no regrets about the how the day ended, as I have the previous race days. I was finally there. The end of a 6 week push since coming out of San Luis Obispo has really drained me. Yes, Whitnall was a big target of mine, but it's April. And if I hadn't been dangling that carrot in front of myself - a notoriously lazy racer, at least in my eyes - I wouldn't have discovered what it's like to be at the end, really be at the end of a race.

It's the early work and lessons that give you the legs for Evanston and Downers.