Seems like the past three years I have been saying "this will be my
year", but it just hasn't worked out. Maybe I should just except the
fact that I will forever be too busy to spend enough time on the bike
to be competitive.
After spending the afternoon on the side of a hill enduring freezing
rain and gail force winds that destroyed Esther's EZ-up and put a good
size dent in her flawless racecar on Saturday, the XC course was in
perfect condition. Sunday was a brisk morning treat that would prove
to be the beginning of one of my most exciting races to date. Matt
Leonard (the guy who got schooled last year) was gunning for me this
year. This normally wouldn't be a problem, but riding once a week for
the past three years has kind of dampened my confidence (well at least
it gives me an excuse for my unforgetable finish). So the race starts
with me in the back of the pack and I instantly forget what pacing
ones self means. I draft towards the front and meet up with Ty and
Matt right before getting to the dirt. I blink and Ty is gone, but
Matt is behind me and I am still confused about what pacing ones self
means. Getting stuck behind slow people in the single track was
probably a good thing. We quickly catch the next few classes and I
figure I'm top ten, but hadn't really kept track. I think Matt is way
back, but hadn't really looked back. My race is going great, but I
realize that I had pushed a little too hard and start to fade as I
approach the goat trail. When I get to the climb out, I take a look
back to find Matt, but don't spot him. I am starting to suffer, but
catch a good draft till I just can't hang.
OK, here is were the excitment starts. If you have read this far, you
can't stop now! "Hi Loren" Matt exclaims in shear delight. My
response can't be repeated, but I think some of you may have heard it
recently "F--K". Matt quickly passes me, squashing my hopes and
dreams. As we near the top of the climb, there is only one rider
between us, and Matt has slowed a bit. I push hard to close the gap
into the downhill single track. "On your LEFT" past one rider, then
breeze by Matt. I think he may have been counting sheep. Matt makes
an attempt on the inside so I block him (don't know why he apologized,
but I set him straight). I go for one more clean pass on the outside,
but the guy speeds up then can't hold his line around a right hander.
We lock bars and wack some bushes, but I mash back on to the trail in
front of Matt. It took a lot out of me. Matt begins to heckle me,
but the trail was too narrow for him to pass. One last climb and Matt
makes it past me. I hear Gin say "team work" and give me a push
making me slam my brakes to avoid hitting Matt's rear wheel. Matt and
I head down the final decent on the race track. I am drafting as I
lock out my Fox fork and upshift. I hear a rider coming from behind
so I start hammering in anticipation then hop on his rear wheel. Matt
doesn't catch the draft and we leave him beind. Around the final turn
and I pull along side pushing as hard as I can to finish side by side.
Without a moment of warning still coasting to a stop, I spew about a
gallon of green liquid right in front of me. Women and children run
for cover as I puke two more times before hearing Paul and Jenny
yelling "do it again" from the side lines with camera in hand.
Unfortunately, they didn't get what could have been a great blog shot:(

I finished 23 of 98 I think. Not the best finish, but certainly the
most exciting.