The Race: Reston Grand Prix Criterium
The Course: 8 corners, an hour, no idea of how many laps
The Field: 1/2/3 women
The Finish: 1st

I really wanted to win Reston. It’s a race in my own neighborhood, it’s an important event for the XO team and sponsors, and I had family and friends coming out to watch. A few days before the race, I came down with the snotty, disgusting cold previously enjoyed by my Nature Valley teammates, but was determined to make the best of it. As for race tactics, I was undecided about how to handle being a marked rider with no teammates. Everybody knew I’d want to chase everything down and nobody would be willing to let me go without a fight. When the race started, I sat in for part of a lap and then went to the front to set a moderately high pace. My hope was that it would break up the field and discourage attacks if everybody was already working. While it might have looked like I was being an idiot, parked in the wind and dragging the field around, that’s because I was.

Once the field settled down and splintered a bit, I let off the gas and the attacks started. Somebody would go, I would chase, they’d sit up, I’d stay on their wheel, they’d pull off, I’d be back on the front, lather, rinse, repeat. It was good practice for quick accelerations, but got tiring after a while. While I started the race riding like I’d brought a flamethrower, it was time to acknowledge that I still had a limited number of matches. I won the first prime, but hesitated for a moment before going after the second one (it was a Clyde’s gift certificate and, when it came time to go, I couldn’t help but think, “Their crab dip isn’t really worth getting out of the saddle…”) and Ainhoa of ABRT beat me to the line with a killer sprint. It made me realize two things: (1) I don’t give a shit if they’re giving away rotting fish, I want to win it and should be willing to hurt accordingly and (2) if the race was going to come down to a field sprint, I couldn’t afford to be complacent in the setup.

A few more laps rolled by and another prime was announced. I had decided to conserve for the end, but that went out the window in turn eight and I found myself sprinting to the line to pick up the last prime (a $50 gift certificate to Whole Foods, which I will use to buy an emu egg in hopes of hatching a large bird). Then with three laps to go, Alexis of NCVC  attacked and established a nice gap for three of us. She worked hard pulling our break but the field closed in again and I knew it would come down to a bunch sprint. Alexis stayed on the front and kept the pace high, I sat on her wheel until the last corner, and then slipped around her to sprint to the line for the win. It was a very happy moment.

Joe Jefferson employs his admirable all-inclusive call-up tradition using the highly-selective “rider appears on the start list” criteria. When he is done, the entire field is crammed on the front row.
My coach’s instructions for the day were to sit in and be patient. Although 90% of race photos would indicate a failure to follow directions, I maintain that I was often sitting and feeling patient.
This is right after the field sprint. I did briefly throw both arms up in the air, but it happened so fast that only a camera capable of capturing the wing flap of a hummingbird could catch it.
My father came out to watch the race and brought enough video/photographic equipment to shame Fox News. I was thrilled to have him there to share the excitement. Oh yeah, that’s him I’m hugging, not just some random dude. OLD PEOPLE HUGSTRAVAGANZA!
My coworker came out to watch and brought his adorable daughter Ella, who immediately became my favorite fan by virtue of the fact that she was not only freaking cute as hell, but also made signs with my name (spelled correctly, no less!) on them.
Ella rocked her first bike race like a champion and learned how to fist bump; next thing is to get her saying “dude” and blogging about her feelings.
In the men’s 1/2/3 race, the XO boys worked hard to provide stuff to talk about on Twitter, eventually sending Keck off the front to win decisively. Meanwhile, Joe Jefferson plumbed the depths of analogies to help the crowd understand that the race was exciting.

 

4 thoughts on “Reston: Where Thousands Cheer (if only my father laughs at that, it will be enough)”

  3. In your finish photo, the dork on the far left with the iPhone filming is yours truly, and my two kids are screaming your name in the middle of the crowd in the yellow shirts/white hats. They became instant fans when I told them I had a friend in the race, and my son gave us lap by lap updates on your race position as we ate brunch on the patio at Clydes.

    FB video for those who haven’t seen it:
    http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=10150990061051552

  4. Well done race considering you probably couldn’t take a full breath through your nose and had to suck up bugs with your mouth open. I believe you’re pacing judgement has tremendously improved…good for you.

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