Remember back when I said I didn’t want to race until April? Why, was that again? Oh yes, I haven’t been training to race (no intervals training, no speed work, no race pace anything), I don’t want to burn out early, etc. Well, given that this is me we’re talking about, I decided to race Sublimity yesterday.
Not only is it the middle of February, but Sublimity is known as one of the hardest races of the year, certainly one of the hilliest, with something like 5000′ of climbing in a little over 40 miles for the cat 1-2-3s. Oh, and have I mentioned I’m not a climber?
I decided to race for three reasons. One, I felt like I needed to get my head back in the game. Two, three fellow teammates would be with me in the cat 3s. And Three, the weather was gorgeous. So off I went.
There were about 19 of us in the field. We rode along after the neutral pretty easily, chatting it up. My legs felt good. I started getting bored, and of course that can only mean one thing: I attacked. Not so much thinking I’d actually go anywhere, but just to get things going, and wow was that a mistake. I attacked into a steep climb AND a ferocious headwind, which pretty much cooked my legs up nice and fast.
Somehow I managed to stay mostly with the group up the grueling one mile climb, although I had to spend a while desperately trying to chase back on. Somehow I did and stuck with the group as we started our second lap. At this point, my legs were shot and my lower back was screaming at me. I did something I tell myself never ever ever to do.
I thought to myself: I can’t do this.
And just like that, my legs were done and my fight was gone. I dropped off the back and angrily did another lap before pulling out.
I’m not so much upset with myself that I dropped out, my legs were cooked and I was way off the back. There was really no point in going on at that point. But I am so mad at myself that I didn’t fight tooth and nail to stay on. I just gave up. Even though I probably would have gotten shot off the back another mile down the road, that’s not what matters. What matters is that I didn’t give it my 100% all to stay on, that really kills me. It was 100% mental: I was overwhelmed with a feeling of complete dejection. My goal in any race is simply to give it my all, since that’s all I can ever do. And I didn’t do that.
I will redeem myself, even if I’m still last place, that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I end the race feeling like I gave 100%. Onwards and upwards.
