There I stood at the start, looking out at a sea of helmets in front of me. The line-up gods had not worked in my favor today, placing me substantially back in the field. Thus, today would be a training ride at best, with the leaders long gone before the whistle even blew. In fact, the start was so slow – as we moved through the different course bottlenecks – that those around me were chatting it up like a bunch of school boys on recess. We would continue to meander around the first lap amidst a thick cloud of dust that by the end of the race would combine with what little saliva I had, to form large sticky chunks around the edges of my lips, which was both gross and unpleasant. And yet, I’d find myself thinking about these chunks throughout the race, working to remove them, or wondering if people thought them to be some kind of strange growth. Amazing how we can be in a situation that demands so much attention, like racing, but that the mind can simply wander off into some odd tangent. But I digress.
So how did I fair today in comparison to last weeks catastrophe? Better, for one I finished, and second I was not dead last. My rivals did still get the better of me, but I could see them for most of the race and that alone gives me hope. I did still find myself at 45 minutes wishing the race was over, I guess I just don’t have 60 minutes in me yet, hopefully that will come.
It’s a slow road, and with such little preparation all year, there is little hope of regaining the glory of last year. But I can’t give up, because there is always next year and every turn I take, every barrier I go over, and every race I do, improves my skill and fullfils the burning desire to be among the leaders. I will say that my love for the sport is reborn, however the heat and dust I could do without.
