No race, no regrets
So I bagged Rockbuster. My phone rang at 8AM Saturday, the day before the race–it was my brother. “It’s today, right?” Of course the answer was no–but he mixed up the days and was standing in his kitchen in Lycra–not something little brother wears often weighing in at 225 lbs, apologizing as he confirmed his mistake with me on the phone.
I thought I might go anyway, because I still kind of wanted to. But we had a soaking rain forecast. Then I did a little math….3 total hours of driving for an event that lasted an hour. $40 in gas. No one there to cheer me on, in the rain. No one to suffer it with me in solidarity. A warm bed. A hard ride on Saturday. These factors, in combination, spelled doom for my chances of showing up for Rockbuster. I slept 9.5 hours Saturday night and don’t regret the decision to take a little time for myself.
The upside to this little disappointment is that my ride on Saturday was pretty zippy. I hooked up with one of my mountain bike friends who is returning to cycling after the birth of her first son. She spent the winter in spin class and wasn’t fooling around as we set off at a pace of 19.5 mph–her on a road bike, me on my ‘cross bike. I stayed with her for the first few miles, we backed off to about 18 mph–all on flat roads. Finally the hills hit us and we slowed down a bit. But all said and done my first 5 miles was at a pace 5 minutes faster than my best lap when I’m out on my own. My home route is hills, hills, hills so I’m not beating myself up too much–but no doubt cycling with her made me up my game.
So–you win some, you lose some, and sometimes you sleep in. I’m in it for the love of the ride and the shared experience, and I got a satisfying dose of that on Saturday. That to me was a win, no race necessary.