After weeks of internal upheaval, I decided to sack up and race Ring of Fire tonight. I’ll skip all the female theatrics and simply put it this way…
What the ever-loving hell was I doing out there?
The good news? My fear of crashing was quickly put to rest once the field left me in a cloud of dust. I managed to lead the first lap, with hopes of snagging the first race prime. Unfortunately, DIY teenagers are light years faster than I am, and I watched my bag of coffee explode into thin air. My left hamstring managed to explode as well (maybe I need to get that checked out?).
I figured I would at least get a workout while I waited for the pack. I busted out my best solo TT steez, and it actually took a while for the group to catch me. It was at this point I realized how hard it is to get back on when you’re not very fast. Needless to say, I sucked. The velodrome is tough.
And it was a million degrees outside.
I have no doubts that I’m my own worst enemy. I put so much pressure on myself to succeed at everything I do. I know I’m not ready…I’m not there. I’ve said it time and time again.
It doesn’t make the disappointment any easier.
So, I sulked for a while and shed a couple of tears in the presence of some amazingly supportive people. And I live to ride another day.